The Trap!A Poem by andrew mitchell
As ants in rows
marched onwards the picnic basket in view. Made of cane lined; Red, white chequered cotton. Drums banged, trumpets rolled; the basket now lifted, marched away; By pitter, patter black feet, ten scores. They whistled, laughed. They rejoiced of what's in store: ham, bread, salad, wine. Not knowing inside the picnic hamper ANT-RID! and a note ENJOY! © 2015 andrew mitchellReviews
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7 Reviews Added on May 22, 2015 Last Updated on May 22, 2015 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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