A four line poem about: the burglar.
We had a pretty successful market this morning, and now we're taking it easy up on the mountain. We're housesitting until Tuesday morning, with only having to go up and down the windy road on Monday for work.
I'll get some pictures of the view and the horses tomorrow.
He's stolen all your paintings,
All the earnings of your life;
But what really ticks you offIs he didn't take your wife.