on my travels I read a little poem at the bottom it was signed anonymous me with the old cogs running thought, that could work hence the poem. dyslexia helped.


The Poet

There is a little creature, that flits from house to house. its known by name by everyone, its called anonamouse.

The anonamouse writes stories, whilst sitting down to tea. he writes limericks and poems, for everyone even you and me.

no one has ever seen it, its hiding all the time. its very good at nonsense verse, and always makes them rhyme.

some he leaves behind him, it does it just for fun. most he writes while standing still, or while lazing in the sun.

when he's finished writing, he hangs them on a wall. some are put in books, others not at all.
it was even once rumoured, or so I heard it said. he even wrote a sonnet, while standing on his head.
he cannot stop giggling, as he goes from house to house. he even wrote this poem, and signed it; anonamouse.




Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-08-08 at 16:43

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