Every night my father fills me with dread……..

funky teapot

 

On the way to Perth, so due to time constraints, this afternoons blog post runs thus –

 

Every night my father fills me with dread,

when he sits on the foot of my bed.

Now, I don’t mind that he speaks,

in gibbers and squeaks.

But for seventeen years he’s been dead!

 

 

Click the picture above, who know’s what lurks within?  Moohahahahaha!

 

Love you all,

 

N.

 

 

All posts and associated media associated with ‘therebemonstershere.com’ remains ©The World Turned Upside Down.

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