Two tables in a tea room
The lines are drawn
So quiet you can hear a doily drop
But unspoken words are the loudest of all
Throwing scones at glass houses
Too fixed to see
The greatest offense of all
is wasting good bakery
It’s not global warming
or American politics to fear
It’s a lady grinding her axe on the wedding china, oh dear.
The knickers are twisted
We’re a serious lot
Dash my wig!
Bitch the pot.
MIXTAPE - A compilation of personal opinions on writing, art, creative inspiration and politics from a curious old soul who lives a few decades behind. 