In Mallard’s wake woe – with clipped wings, I watch and yearn for Winter sojourn. (For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day, and RonovanWrites
Like Mary Quant sister had the look – groomed in etiquette, poise and fine dining while my boyish antics merited mixology prep one destined for
Aspire to transcend, reach higher consciousness, like a lotus rising out of muck – but grace and virtue elude me, more mud hen than delicate
It’s complicated, really, but so much is defined by the presence of a garage. Here is a stand-alone, connected by a breezeway, single-car with storage;
Imitate Nature, the guru said, observe and learn. Geese, I notice, are loud, messy, and communal. Move slowly without shame, protest likewise. Not sure I
Public displays seldom tell-all, Vanity figures performance called for – a ruse to make the hordes pander. Clearly fault lies with us, audience fuelling rhetoric, lapping up the hate.