fold in a step stool
one right hand middle finger
bruise as bruit blue
but don’t fall off walls
nor tumble an unmov’d rock
nor wake by a sea
sleepless the creatures
within listen in distance
left hand a sandwich
Poetry
fold in a step stool
one right hand middle finger
bruise as bruit blue
but don’t fall off walls
nor tumble an unmov’d rock
nor wake by a sea
sleepless the creatures
within listen in distance
left hand a sandwich
jack broke his crown but jill merely tumbled…..
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What do you think they wanted water for? What happened to the water? There is something suspiciously Freudian about the story, but it may also have relation to the everlasting dangers involved with rainbow ends, which rarely occur on hilltops…must dig for gold, or, as nowadays, ‘power-roll’…
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well even when falling, jill follows her man…..the water was carried by franco the gardener, but he had to waste it on throwing it over the fallen jack to wake him up….
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Never heard of Franco before; never knew Jill liked Country-Western music; but you’re right, he could have mixed up some papier-mache and made a new crown…
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perhaps, but that would involve reading a newspaper ….
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Let’s organize a raid on the Hoarder Ranch…you bring those sandwiches, and all the King’s horses and sensible shoes.
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