See the paddling of the nurse,
I think he's angry at the heroic verse.
He finds it hard to see the bee,
Overshadowed by the weird flea.
Who is that frightening near the snail?
I think she'd like to eat the sale.
She is but a fancy dancer,
Admired as she sits upon a tropic of cancer.
Her instructional car is just a bats,
It needs no gas, it runs on prats.
She's not alone she brings a kitten,
a pet snake, and lots of whitton.
The snake likes to chase a beach,
Especially one that's in the bleach.
The nurse shudders at the nocturnal goat
He want to leave but she wants the groat.Start writing...
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The Duelist
The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Fromm3 days ago in Fiction
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