17 November 2014

Wavo Bowlo too.

Haiku prolixia.

Swallows swirling in a swaying sky,
Yachts creak on moorings of rust, 
Lycra clad grunts on swathes of green, and
"Howzat?" intruding from far off fields.
' I declare that I reside outside a 5 km radius of this club ...'
Do we sign? 
Alan, master of the barefoot bowls, knoweth all mysteries here:
sliced white, espresso, doily, egg, teapot, ditch and jack.
Spiritual direction and art non-appreciation are our fare, 
for gods would be present too.
Thing achieved.

Bob 15.11.14 

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