Hello!
From textfixer
Ripe Daylight Hobby Afraid Moist Lick Airship Liberation Guillotine
He was a ripe old age
And the daylight fell
On his hands as he knit
For the unit.
His hobby gave strength
To those parents afraid
That their young ones
Might not last the ev’ning.
Though their faces were moist,
And foul demons did lick
At their courage,
And set it dissolving;
That this old man had gifts
He bestowed so freely
Garnered buoyance
On airship of meaning.
As each cast off drew near,
Liberation began
Of his kindness;
And sweet thoughts of others.
Inside moments of dread
Hope did grace the sweet heads
Of those whose fate
Loomed like the guillotine.
Notebook scribbles
I hope you like this poem 🙂
Hubby and I had another grammatical discussion around ‘knit’ but I am sticking to my old fashioned ways, as described here.
Unfortunately I am having to post and run because our Eldest is really unwell this evening.
It’s his birthday on Friday, too. I am so sorry for him!
(If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, you’ll know I’ve caught what he has…pray for me, it isn’t pleasant 😛 )
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