Phil Soar

Gold Star - 48,920 Points (28.06.1952)

Farmyard Antics 23 - Poem by Phil Soar

I strolled into a farmyard
In the middle of the night
I trod in something 'icky'
And the feeling wasn't right
The mess coated my slippers
With a sorted of matted pat
I threw them in a haystack
And that was the end of that

Topic(s) of this poem: nonsense


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 28, 2016



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