Poetry is a tar drum
hollowed out and injected with
treacle.
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Here's a bar of chocolate. Now talk to me. :)
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When the Saints Come Marchin’ In …
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Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas by Orange Jammies is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at https://orangejammies.com/.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Tar is tar
No can par
Poetry
Is tree
Spreading shade afar!
Aunty G: I deeply regret
That you may forget
My words do not comfort
They flow in the odd spurt
Too often from a font of fret.