Tuesday, 21 April 2015


I shall dream of bucket lists & last granted wishes,

That don´t include the dusting, nor unwashed dishes,

But of extenuating love fests with all men I´ve loved,

To talk the lingo of the whale, lion & peaceful dove,

To sup richly, & upon more than simply humble pie,

Oh to quaff golden berried nectar, long before I die,

To cool my old breasts, in ocean´s blue foreign waves,

To walk bare-footed, within old forest´s mossy glades,

To see my grand-babies grown up, long before I fly,

Then & only then Lord, eventually, I´ll be ready to die.



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