napowrimo22018 (Remove filter)
Mother's Ruin
Mother’s Ruin
My mum would not touch alcohol
She never told us why
But she made rhubarb wine a lot
And also rhubarb pie
Sat in the Rhubarb Triangle
You didn’t have to try
To cultivate or care for it
It grew wild quite nearby
She got a secret recipe
To make a potent wine
She picked the fruit and followed it
Everything looked fine
Twenty-one bottles l...
Friday 1st May 2020 12:55 pm
Recent Comments
Bethany Sallis on Against the background of a Winter Sky
3 minutes ago
John Coopey on THE NOB NURSE 2
8 minutes ago
David RL Moore on Against the background of a Winter Sky
35 minutes ago
Rasa Kabaila on The Magic in Mundane
4 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Against the background of a Winter Sky
9 hours ago
John Coopey on The Gift of Words
9 hours ago
Stephen Atkinson on The Gift of Words
10 hours ago
Auracle on Live life to the full and forget your age
10 hours ago
Auracle on Amnesia
10 hours ago
Lee Campbell on In praise of Milton Keynes: Graham Sherwood wins poetry competition in home city
10 hours ago