No 315 January 24
I know you wonít believe me,
But Iíve lost the power of speech,
I seem to say things all in rhyme,
To speak normal someone will have to teach.
I sit and say things to myself,
And think oh that sounds right,
By the time I get my writing pad,
The words have gone from sight.
I may have sent a lot of poems,
But believe me when I say,
Thereís lots of little bits of ones,
That I just throw away.
But I just feel itís easy,
Just like Iím talking to you,
When weíre locked up and canít go out,
What else am I to do.
Donít worry, Iím still baking,
At stupid hours of the day,
Itís just something that I love to do,
Then give it all away.
I often try new recipes,
To see if theyíll please you,
Some of them you may get to try,
The others just wonít do.
I donít know why I bother,
Weíve been away so long,
Whatever I bring youíll love it,
How nice, I canít go wrong.