The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: pressure.
Had a pretty good market this morning, considering we're post-Thanksgiving and it was actually cloudy and sort of rainy as well. Fairly certain that's the first time we've had rain since July's thunderstorm bonanza.
Looking forward to sleeping in a little tomorrow.
Mine:
The clock is ticking,
A disguised death knell;
If words stay hidden,
They'll send me to hell.
2 comments:
Is that three months without rain, or three months without rain on a market day? Still, glad you had a good market, it helps getting to the end of them a little easier :)
Your poem made me smile again, so that's a good start to the day!
Pressure
Doris handles pressure like
A helium-filled balloon.
Too little and she is inert,
Too much – she goes KA-BOOM!
Greg - 3 months without any rain whatsoever. It's definitely needed around here, just would have been nice to get it on a non-market day!
I've known quite a few people like Doris. Some days, I suspect I'm one of them.
Most days, really.
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