When my time to die has come and I become a star
I hope someone will catch us both and keep us in a jar.
I composed that in my head in bed this morning. I recited it to Husband and asked if he were deeply moved. He said yes but I think he was lying.
And that's why I'm never going to be a poet. (I just thought: I should have kept this for my Valentine's day offering.)
4 comments:
When I die, I want y'all to dress the corpse in a Superman costume and throw it out of an airplane ;-)
Just THINK of the urban legends that'd start ;-)
Men are never openly romantic after a while. I call L my "sexy beast" and I always get a smile at that! lol
Well, I think it's sweet! I'm going to try it on OH.
Now, what should I write?
Um ... how about:
'He went and died before me,
The dirty, stinkin' rat.
Now there are no more Conversations
That I can belly-laugh at'
Mm. Perhaps not.
I'm with you - I'm never going to be a poet!
That would be fantastic, stu!
You know what he likes, leslie.
very good, jay. let's write a book of poetry between us! We could be best-sellers!
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