- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Thief
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Who is this thief that steals from my line,
again and again, time after time.
Leaving dirty laundry scattered around,
finding them laying on the ground.
What a mess they have made of things,
the emotions they stir and sorrow they bring.
I wait and watch my laid out line,
I have patience and plenty of time.
Searching for answers to the crime,
who is littering these things of mine?
Then I saw them land on my line,
taking my clothes pins one at a time.
The black Crow that has caused such a mess,
likes the shinny spring of the clothes pins I guess.
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