The staccato echo of "clippity-clop"
Past butcher and baker and candlestick shop.
Over the cobblestone streets he did fly,
With heavy seen breath and fear in his eye.
The wagon wheels of wood did turn,
The flickering lattern barely did burn,
As he glanced behind beneath angular hat,
His heart did a-flutter, he shouldn't look back.
With one final burst he reached the place,
And flew up the stairs amid all his haste,
The woman she shrieked, as he began to stutter,
"H-h-here you are dear, I brought you your butter."
Her nostrils flared, her eyes opened wide,
She advanced on him, rolling pin at her side.
"I was baking this bread for you my love,"
"And this whole bloody time you've been at the pub!"
THWACK!
-Luke Mitchell
It is beautiful to think that no matter what part of history you look back on that domestic issues would have always been the same.
1 comment:
Well said.
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