Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Body Parts
Body Parts With a foot in my mouth and a heart on my sleeve, I'm a mixed-up old man like you would not believe. I have brains in my pants and a chip on my shoulder, life gets much harder as teeth get much older. And they're in a jar behind the settee, why can't body parts remain where they should be?
Hobbo's Poems 
Love to hear you take off on this at length. You bend words cleverly, sew them together very well. Ah, yes, the man is indeed a poemetrist. I forgot. It’s his blood.
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Thanks. I must be a bloody poemetrist then.
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Ha ha! Clever! It got my head out of my hands and my feet came loose!
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Ha ha. As long as your brain isn’t dead.
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Legs will be where they should be for when one needs to kick the bucket though it gets broken in order to perform a task well.
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š Great comment. Thank you.
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Haha Iām sorry it sounded better in my head. š I swear it!
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Hehehe!š
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I do love a rhyming rhetorical question. š
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š
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What kind of Frankenstein are you Hobbo? Lol
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Ha ha ha! š
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Deft with words you are
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Deft or daft, one of the three!
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You are good at math, too!
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And speling!
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hahahaha
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š Then, what would you complain over with afternoon tea? š
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I’d think of something. š
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Indeed. š
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That picture is hysterical š
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It is, isn’t it.
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