My grandmother ended a letter at the end of January 1949 with these words, "Victor sure has a dandy girl. She is worse than the weather if you ask me." I can practically hear the humph in the antique ink.
Finally, after line after line of daily household details, something juicy. Now, what to do with those two sentences? I have a few attempts scribbled in my notebooks but this triolet makes me giggle.
But is it Love?Victor sure has a dandy girl
How can it be that April is over? I was just adjusting to the writing schedule? We Inklings are paying homage to someone else's National Poetry Project with our poems next week, the first week of May. If you want to look over some of the projects they are at Jama's