Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Secrets
Secrets They are gathered by bees And whispered in the trees, Reflected in your eye, Or the none too subtle sigh. They will haunt you in your sleep, These secrets that you keep, When you're sure the world is dumb, They will bite you on the bum! Gnaw your conscience till it's raw, And you forget the fatal flaw, For you know, without a doubt That your secret will get out.
Hobbo's Poems 
Yes, they’re tough little nuts. I try to have as few as possible of my own. But it’s so critical to trust to respect other people’s.
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Wise advice my friend.
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