youngest critic
My son said my verse had no rhyme.
By which I replied "There isn't time!"
With a sigh and a nod,
he rolled his eyes up to God
and left me to compose my next line.
Of course I couldn't cut it,
when he returned to inspect,
with a smirk on his face
and a snort of disgrace,
he muttered "When is dinner?"
My son said my verse had no rhyme.
By which I replied "There isn't time!"
With a sigh and a nod,
he rolled his eyes up to God
and left me to compose my next line.
Of course I couldn't cut it,
when he returned to inspect,
with a smirk on his face
and a snort of disgrace,
he muttered "When is dinner?"
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