Thinking
Thinking
"come fluttering words, come drifting words to me . . . "
Thinking of the boy last night,
Who stole into her room,
Who really got the biggest fright,
When she lashed out with the broom.
Yes he was nice but out of order,
Sad eyed he fled away ,
She didn’t see him here today,
Second thought’s about the boarder.
Don Johnson 22-july-11
Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~ Contest What is she thinking . . .
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2011
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