Five-O'Clock Tea
She called me to her lair for tea
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve
and looks with lost brown eyes to me.
She called me to her lair for tea.
I'm sure I must, I should, just flee.
I must make plans, plans to soon leave.
She called me to her lair for tea
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve.
JO's Blog
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve
and looks with lost brown eyes to me.
She called me to her lair for tea.
I'm sure I must, I should, just flee.
I must make plans, plans to soon leave.
She called me to her lair for tea
purring, preening, she licks her sleeve.
JO's Blog
Labels: poetry
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