I had to find a way to lighten up a bit. Bed time is
approaching and I’m tired of going to bed feeling like a snowball in the Sahara.
So, it occurred to me that lots of people have had silly ditties written about
them, but Sarah hasn’t been done the honour yet.
I tried, I really did, but the rhymes just wouldn’t gel for
some reason. But then I was reading some Shakespeare sonnets and came across
one that fitted her like a glove, so much so that it’s quite uncanny.*
Sonnet 129
By W Shakespeare
Oh Sarah, she of old Mill Lane
Who walketh gracefully
Do treateth me with
great disdain
And cometh not for tea
That says it all, really.
*I lied.
Does anybody want a puppy? I’m house trained and will gladly
bark at the postman.
6 comments:
I love it Jeff! Try offering her a piece of cake to go with the tea :)
Cake costs! Besides, she'd probably be afraid of droppinig crumbs in her flashy, British racing green Mini.
I need to drop you an e-mail tonight. Hope you can pick it up now you're back in Spain.
yes but surely the cost doesn't come into it when you consider the company!!! However she probably would be happy with tea!!
A touch of mystery at last. Just what I needed.
OK, I'm sold. Just as long as she doesn't munch any rose hips on the way up the garden path. They can be lethal. Not fatal, just lethal.
British racing green Mini? now that's just not fair, not that i drive mind you ;) I have a half constructed email for you, I should finish it off and send it!
British racing green with a white roof, even!
The mini kind of suits her, actually. It has rather more character than her previous Vauxhall, and yet projects a quality that might described as 'ladylike' (if you're a fossil like me who still uses such terms.) It smells nice, too.
I never sent your e-mail last night, either. I didn't even write it. I opened a Word page but was confused. Still am.
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