Drip.
Drip.
Call the plumber.
Drop.
Drop.
Have you got a number?
Splish.
Splish.
It’s getting wetter.
Splosh.
Splosh.
It’s ruined my sweater.
The tide comes in
The tide goes out.
But today it forgot to return to the sea
It broke its banks and we didn’t forsee
That the kitchen would be our new lido.
Pass me the waterwings.
By Linda Prince
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| © Alo B. |
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