With the lights all a glitter
amongst all the flitter
and the spirits now freely aflow.
And gaiety abounds
with the ringing of sounds
as voices in laughter do glow.
And there in the corner is ole Jackie Horner
sloshing and spilling his gin,
And says Old big Bob, "Boy what a slob"
as he wipes away whiskey from chin.
And the night is a wonder
with ssslurring and blunder
while the clink of glasses does ring.
And all out of tune, like a wheezie baboon
we all begin to sing.
as always,
wordsy.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "a thin trail of whispers
across a wandering mind
faint flashes of fantasy
that I often find
merely jaded shadows
of who I used to be
they fill with words, my pages
for all the world to see"
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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