A poem performed today, for the very fist time, at the Watford Dialup, Watford Palace Theatre, by Martin.
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
But of my socks I was not proud,
For to me it seemed absurd,
To wash my feet for Thora Hird.
She asked, she begged, I would not budge,
Between my toes was chocolate fudge,
The treat I'd had at half past three,
Was more than just a memory.
See also: http://www.bartleby.com/145/ww260.html
Roger Moore 1927 – 2017
3 hours ago