My tale

He never kissed my throat once.Neither did he cut it.

He was  a middle man,one might say.

Still two rooks made a good broth

And a rolling bone added some marrow.

Shall we hiss and break up?

Sometimes it’s cool to be kind.

As I was a roaming one night with my sling…

I saw an old vulture asleep on its wing.

Aren’t birds silly sometimes.Why does a vulture not have a nest?

That worries me when I wake up at 3 am with two men in my bed..

Can males not buy their own beds?It’s not love they want,it’s clean sheets!

That’s my tale anyway


About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
This entry was posted in thoughts and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.