A limerick Farmer O'Dure was gracious and mature, A gentle soul with intentions most pure. His pork turned huge profit, first rate; But he'd get rebuffed at every first date, For George O'Dure simply reeked of manure. d'Verse poetics prompt: A World of Common Scents Today at d'Verse, poets were encouraged to write poems focused… Continue reading Pork, or: Get some
Wings, or: Claws
Poetry Partners #47 'Wings', a poem by Sarah of 'Words and Coffee Writing' Our Ameraucana chickens preside over their own half acre of lush grass, claws scraping up dust to find each kernel of cracked corn we leave. But they still jump over the fence once of year, wings flailing, a flurry of feathers trailing,… Continue reading Wings, or: Claws
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