he asked if i like it, i said yes, you see,

i like scissors.



been waiting an hour or so,

for words to come, although

deemed prolific, i do get stuck

some mornings.



so at just past seven

thirty, i have made the beds tidy,

washed the dishes.

bathed, dressed and perfumed,

the cheap one, everyday,

still had no words

inclined.



yes, i do like edward scissor hands,

and i do so like scissors.



my mother had one pair

that I remember, made special

with words, and to be careful

it is the only pair.



damaged later cutting  a live

electric wire, she survived.



the budgie suffered.



sbm.