Spanking the ass of an idea,
That didn't warn me it was a repeat.
Bear with me in my aged condition
As sometimes I'm lost for words.
Beg steal or borrow
A poem will come forth.
Can't leave an empty space
Where a poem should be.
The true artist will frown on me
For being so careless with words.
The intent was there to be good
But that doesn't always happen.
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Love ya!
Jane
Ron