he wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon toss’d upon cloudy trees. The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor, And Mom and Dad came driving, Driving, driving, Mom and Dad came driving up to the Marshall door.
Over the gravel they clattered and backed into the garage. We quickly turned all the lights off, hoping they’d think it was a mirage. They arrive onto the back porch, And who should be waiting there. But all their children, their scrungy children, Their darling, adorable children. Hoping they wouldn’t notice, That the little kids weren’t in bed.
She had quite a lot of children
ReplyDeleteAnd then she had another, and another, and another
And still there was no other brother.
he wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
ReplyDeleteThe moon was a ghostly galleon toss’d upon cloudy trees.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And Mom and Dad came driving,
Driving, driving,
Mom and Dad came driving up to the Marshall door.
Over the gravel they clattered and backed into the garage.
We quickly turned all the lights off, hoping they’d think it was a mirage.
They arrive onto the back porch,
And who should be waiting there.
But all their children, their scrungy children,
Their darling, adorable children.
Hoping they wouldn’t notice,
That the little kids weren’t in bed.
like I said, literary masterpieces!
ReplyDelete