The Plot Unfolds

THE PLOT UNFOLDS

Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though

Don’t you bury your head
In some proverbial sand

Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though

For neither of us
Is quite so dead just yet

Nor quite alive
Either yet so

Don’t you worry
Don’t you worry me
Don’t you bury me though

Yes, yes, don’t you bury me
‘Cos I ain’t quite dead yet

Free Of Insufficiency: Four By Six

FREE OF INSUFFICIENCY

Worry not my dear friend
For practice makes perfect
Meanwhile further upstairs
All is just as is meant

These Furrowed Brows

THESE FURROWED BROWS

You can spot thinkers
But what preoccupies them
Is it of value?