Success



A glass of hooch and I'm feeling fin,
Not a wory to my name so great I am,
Love with the way words swim.
An occasional dip into the rabbit hole,
Tis not wrong, as long as you know  your way,
Back  no need to visit or speak this way.

Oh my you say, so what is there to play,
Not being here  and where you know,
Is how to be  then more to show.

Charlie Chaplin  poem  me




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Little Morton Hall

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window by Richard de Dale We speak of forgotten sins to boast and pass the time, With laughter in our mouths our souls attempt sublime, Is confession the only cure for ignorant despair? A public cry for absolution fills the air, Thus man in consolation begs forgiveness fair.   Picture source  unknown   Poetry blogger (all poetry and art work not credited is possession of this blogger) 
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