Monday, December 12, 2005

Mary to Elizabeth

All children are gifts, miracles,
and mine shall betray no common flaw.
Angels are more rare than prayers,
more common than new moons.

Respectable even in barreness
you know not what you deride,
speaking blasphemy of pride.

3 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

whatever happened to the poems i used to know....my favorite poems are actually by Andrew Dice Clay...

Little Boy Blew...cause he needed the money

or Jack and Jill went up the hill each with a buck and a quarter
Jill came down with two fifty
Whoa what a whore....hehehehe

Small minds, ya know!

4:26 PM  
Blogger Star Foster said...

lmao.....

Limericks are good too...

12:21 PM  
Blogger Star Foster said...

May I point out you are not very helpful. For once I ask you to be critical of me and I get cutsey politeness!

*lets loose with a Charlie Brown ARRRRRGGGHHHH!*

12:34 PM  

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