One warm small body in arms the other - cold - away up the stairs. The scrubby garden and the shed, where the cat had gone to die days earlier, just about summed it up
Do They Sing? Summer is slipping away early Skies are darkening; there is a slight chill What I thought was an errand of mercy is done - But found no mercy was needed.
At the door of this quiet room Your bedroom, holding all that you are In trust, There is an, almost, holy hush But for the unexpected flesh pink – Such a mistake – a pigs ear.
You get what you pay for, he declares over a glass of white wine But do you? she asks, hugging a mug of tea. It’s not like a business, we will have to sit there and speak our hearts and minds