fortyish australian, lives in terraced house in north london with a 4 year old and a feisty but fading goldfish. reads far too many 'mommyblogs'. misses sunshine and blue skies and twisties. addicted to reading actual books, sleeping and the scent of roses in other people's gardens.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Perks
One of the perks of being married to a poet is getting to work and finding in my bag a framed poem, written to me while I lay sleeping early this morning.
One of the perks of being married to a poet is getting to work and finding in my bag a framed poem, written to me while I lay sleeping early this morning.
1 comment:
Thats nice, unless you add this extra verse:
doe eye calf
slit throat
dead
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