A mousegray, speckled, hungry moth
had found the vicar's holy cloth.
When darkness drifted from the spire
she started chewing the attire.
...
Read full text
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
This one's just on the border, Herbs! ! Ya ha ha! ! ! With chuckles, Gina.