family poem (Remove filter)
Grandad's Armchair
Grandad’s Armchair
Strange smelling, mustard brown moth-eaten chair, where Grandad sat on a Sunday afternoon after lamb with all the trimmings.
Like a heaving ancient giant, with his mouth ready to catch flies and glasses knocked to one side, he snores and wheezes, his tongue sissing like a snake.
With a choo choo train I fly around and scream and crash and wallop into everything; as Acti...
Saturday 24th June 2017 5:41 pm
Recent Comments
M.C. Newberry on LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY I PUT IT TO YOU......
13 minutes ago
John Marks on Radix malorum est cupiditas
27 minutes ago
David RL Moore on The Evolution Within
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on Radix malorum est cupiditas
3 hours ago
Jon on New Life
4 hours ago
David RL Moore on Gun in the fridge
4 hours ago
Jon on New Life
14 hours ago
prakhar dhama on The Evolution Within
16 hours ago
Landi Cruz on Gun in the fridge
17 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Woke
20 hours ago