(The poetic form selected for this week is the French triolet).
I heard them drive a nail in my coffin.
He’ll die, they said, once he loses air.
Next there was a thud and they were laughin’.
I heard them drive a nail in my coffin.
I used to give them cheek, in fact quite often.
Apparently it’s more than they could bear.
I heard them drive a nail in my coffin.
He’ll die, they said, once he loses air.
To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.
(The poetic form selected for this week is the French triolet).
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.
Was it Cynthia’s or Brenda’s? Jill’s or even Fred’s?
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
Meg’s perhaps or Elsie’s? Jane’s or Winifred’s?
I really hope it’s Moira’s; I liked the kitschy-coo.
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.
To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.
Weave a Web 