FRIAR Tuck, shortly
SHORN, and portly –
THREE times a day drank his fill of mead:
‘UNTIE me, Lord, from my grip on greed.’
[Getting a bit lonely in here – where is everybody?]
ludic verbosity for the win
FRIAR Tuck, shortly
SHORN, and portly –
THREE times a day drank his fill of mead:
‘UNTIE me, Lord, from my grip on greed.’
[Getting a bit lonely in here – where is everybody?]