Honk if you love me . . .
is my goose cooked?
I wander restless,
my heart is ‘took’ . . .
plucked like my feathers
when pooch is near.
He nibbles right here.
Come cuddle, sweetheart,
the farmer’s near.
Shucks . . . you look divine--
it's you he picks.
Honey, I’ll save you.
I’ll 'goose' the hick.
Kicked out . . . in the wild--
labeled as ‘sick’.
Soon as you can, Dear,
lickety-split!
Meet you in the pit!
Love Tinka
Did you do the drawing?
Have Some Great Holidays!
a lovely write
William
Peggy
Sandie Angel :o) a.k.a. May Lu $*_*$