There’s a tear in my soup

Take your hands off my flea.

Bake your sands in the sea.

Once written twice the guy.

Too many books boil  the brain

Lovers make good bedcovers.

One odd fellow does not a lover make.

Keep writing on till the send button goes.

Waiter,there’s a tear in my soup.

He tore into the soup with all his might.

I shall love you till I have resigned.

We write sonnets on the wall.

We have no wailing malls here yet but people are getting more careful/

The dentist took out my beef….and it was roasted too!

What is lurking in  the bread?

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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