Written for OLWG# 191
When out the back garden there arose such a crash,
I sprang from the bed to see what had been smashed.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
T’was the patio furniture, smashed beyond all repair.
It’s the Varner’s dog, Boomer, they just let it wander around all night
I have been slow in getting things done for a couple of weeks. I stole some Christmas verse that, I’m told, has been in the public domain for a while. I altered it, somewhat, and tossed an American Sentence in at the bottom. The result made me smile so I went with it.
This weeks prompts were
- let it wander around
- burning pyres
- I don’t like your haircut