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Thread: A womans. Poem

  1. #1
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    Default A womans. Poem

    He didnít like the Casserole and he didnít like my cake ,
    He said my biscuits were too hard ,not like his mother used to make.
    I didnít make his coffee right , he didnít like my stew,
    I didnít fold his pants the way his mother used to do,
    I ponder for an answer, I was looking for a clue,
    Then I turned around and smacked the sh.. out of him, like his mother used to do !
    JS
    R575129

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    Default Re: A womans. Poem

    HI John
    I like it, I like it.
    I started reading when I was about four or five, I used to hear nothing as I read, in the end my Mother who was crippled used to put a row of teaspoons near her chair and throw then at me when she wanted my attention, I'm sure some of the lumps on my head are from her spoons.
    Des
    R510868
    Lest We Forget

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    Default Re: A womans. Poem

    Ah Des, sad tales indeed.
    We had a grandpa who played the spoons, problem was he only knew one tune.
    Happy daze John in Oz.

    Life is too short to blend in.

    John Strange R737787
    World Traveller

  4. Likes Des Taff Jenkins, Denis O'Shea liked this post

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