Where is our dear friend Ed?
To the bushes he has fled,
Singing ring around the Rosie,
And never mind the Poesy,
Sloughing off he is,
In the bushes that’s his bliss,
No computer did he take,
Sitting by the lake,
With the loons his singing,
With the birds he’s winging,
He lives the live of Riley,
All barefoot and free,
Listen here I’m getting bored,
Not one review I’ve scored,
Now if you and I think you do, want my two cents,
None of this makes sense,
So pack your rucksack come back home,
From whence your nest had flown,
Turn on the lamp, and go to bed,
And write your poems instead.©29/06/2010
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Donna
Regis
I've been off wandering, searching for bees;
I've now got a bad case of The Bumblebee Blues,
This old world now gets sadder and sadder, for me.
EDvard Ole Brother
Be always safe,
Karen