Oh, I’m a real worry! Old age and forgetfulness seems to be the order of the day. 
Not so long ago I hung my washing in the wardrobe to dry.
Then just a few minutes ago the phone rang – so I picked up my coffee cup to answer it! Luckily the coffee had gone cold, as is usual, so at least I didn’t get scalded. I’m wondering what I will do next – any suggestions? 
Oh, that should read 'helpful and nice' suggestions, otherwise, who knows what suggestions I might reveive! 
Not so long ago I hung my washing in the wardrobe to dry.
Then just a few minutes ago the phone rang – so I picked up my coffee cup to answer it! Luckily the coffee had gone cold, as is usual, so at least I didn’t get scalded. I’m wondering what I will do next – any suggestions? Oh, that should read 'helpful and nice' suggestions, otherwise, who knows what suggestions I might reveive! My Little Kitten
Posted 15th October 2011 at 04:48 AM by Rosemary
It's surprising what you find when you are looking for something else
I was searching for my Tax File Number when I came across this poem I had written for my eldest Granddaughter Kate, when she was about four years old.
MY LITTLE KITTEN
I had a little kitten,
Titptoes was her name.
And when I did my knitting
She thought it was a game.
I was trying to knit a jumper
For my darling little Kate
When the kitten gave the wool
One enormous great big pull
The stitches they did unravel
In a heap upon the floor.
So I chased my little kitten
Right out of the front door.
Somehow I can't imagine my poetry to ever make the 'classics' even if it is old.
I was searching for my Tax File Number when I came across this poem I had written for my eldest Granddaughter Kate, when she was about four years old.
MY LITTLE KITTEN
I had a little kitten,
Titptoes was her name.
And when I did my knitting
She thought it was a game.
I was trying to knit a jumper
For my darling little Kate
When the kitten gave the wool
One enormous great big pull
The stitches they did unravel
In a heap upon the floor.
So I chased my little kitten
Right out of the front door.
Somehow I can't imagine my poetry to ever make the 'classics' even if it is old.
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