Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Trouble ahead
Trouble ahead It can not be done Said she But he Out for fun Blew away all her doubts And curried the sprouts.
Trouble ahead It can not be done Said she But he Out for fun Blew away all her doubts And curried the sprouts.
Note to self: Do not read Hobbo before swallowing coffee.
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Not again!
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You do it on purpose. (Keyboard is okay. I think.)
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😂😂 You’re my benchmark. I judge a poem’s chuckle factor on the amount of coffee I can get you to splurt over the keyboard!
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I dread to think what happened after eating curried sprouts!!
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😂😂Exactly!
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Wow…I’m sure the result was a blow out. 😁
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😂😂
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