Like pristine starch-white table cloth,
A frost bedecks the lawn,
A smitten robin finds no broth,
Its fast to break at dawn,
As pangs of hunger spawn,
In famished waifs forlorn!
©Meanderings 2016
Like pristine starch-white table cloth,
A frost bedecks the lawn,
A smitten robin finds no broth,
Its fast to break at dawn,
As pangs of hunger spawn,
In famished waifs forlorn!
©Meanderings 2016
Posted in Food, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Seasons, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Values