Yo all...hope you are well for a spell, so that unlike me you will not go to _ell. LOL Take care, Trish

A garbage can tilted uneasily in the flowing river of rain,
As silent lightning struck an old maple down the twisted lane,
And giant sycamore tree trunks danced with might and distain
Understanding the wicked old witch who thighs enclosed cane.

A laugh so eerie the night owls shrieked and flew undercover,
As young Timmy looked hoping in vain for it to be his lover,
And an old goose stood on a winding path with the bridge over
Understanding the pure evil came from life without red clover.

Stumbling awkwardly into the pit of stench and slow lost desire,
As the moon set angrily over the mountain head’s glowing fire,
And moths flittered to flames like the voice of the old town crier
Understanding that nasty comes from those who assailed higher.

Naughted bones, mangled into seaman’s knots, all slightly tangled,
As heartbroken wenches screamed out so tearful sad and be dangled,
And the hobbit whose fame spread from this land of the rot bangled
Understood life was a gift, not to play with, and not to be mangled.