Not a person whispered; not even a shout.
Rah grew weary of building for hunts. It all hit her at once.
She settled down for a little shut eye, down near the old water supply.
Dreaming of peace and good will to men. She does this time and again.
A noise from near she heard and awoke. That damn frog and hid F-ing croak.
Tonight will be a specialty dish; frog legs and whatever else you wish.
Christmas Eve and all about
Not a person whispered; not even a shout.
Poem by Rah
Image snapped in Second Life.
Filter added via PhotoShop.
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