Anthony Di'anno (Yorkshire)
The Curse Of Poets Cats And Birds
I need to be working,
and to be honest I can't wait to write this,
But I really should be,
washing and drying the odd dish,
And the words they keep coming,
Heart strings are strumming,
Fingers are drumming,
And I really need to be doing my chores soon.
The log pile's depleted,
The garden defeated,
The cat's run away with the last spoon.
It's trying to open a tin.
It's looking quite thin.
And outside the birds are plumply bouncing about,
I'll just let the cat out,
and quickly give birth to the curse of poet's cats and birds,
Pop out a few words.
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