Once it was at a table for three.
Proudly placed under a tree.
For a hatter to sit on his rear.
Chattering in a dormouse’s ear.
A golden cushioned chair.
Tattered, torn and worn bare.
Lost in an alley alone now.
Waiting for a curtsy or bow.
Linking with the Sunday Muse
This makes me want to hug the chair :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Chrissa. 🙂
DeleteSweet! i feel the same as Chrissa...i want to hug the chair! I love what you did with the prompt Vicki!
ReplyDelete