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Song (Free verse) by Christof The pigeon in the elder tree
And the baby in her bed
Sing to each other and neither cares
Which words are unused, which truths unsaid.
She speaks for the joy of speaking,
The pigeon nothing less,
And we dare despoil their purity
With elocuted bitterness.
Up the ladder:
Random Sandwich, or, The Scavenger's Chocolate Wrapper
Down the ladder:
in the hands
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.5
Posted: July 17, 2007 1:27 AM PDT; Last modified: July 17, 2007 1:27 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.1788044 Overall Rank: 4890 Comments:
Yesterday I officially became a Gradu-ate and the ceremony was splendid apart from a trinity of babies who managed to set up some sort of crying rota well in advance. As soon as one of the little fuckers had bawled its tonsils out another would pick up the chant with added smugness. So I must disagree that any baby speaks merely for the joy of speaking; it is more clearly for the joy of interrupting a solemn and dignified event.
Given the performance that I was 'treated' to by my little bundle of joy this morning, I'm inclined to agree...
Congratulations on your graduation, though, there's nothing better than flouncing around in a big robe for the day! 210 view(s)
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Don't take the anti-Darwinist comment amiss. I was only being flippant. I do that too much.