up at 0417 am all readt for work; and I've got a poem idea. I absolutely loved My Cat Geoffrey by christopher smart. He lived in 18oo's and went mad was duly thrown into bedlam and neglected. But his ppl were well-off so he had a room by himself and a few pieces of chalk; and day by day he would write little verses on the walls to the one person who loved him, his cat, geoffrey. The warders of course couldn't read, but after some months his behaviour improved so the family visited and found these verses and copied them I think he died shortly afterwards so the poem we have now is a compilation of verses by someone else...and its great, really. Now in two of my oldies you get the beginnings of something like that?
After all we have a similar love for one special cat. And lo! in a world of nutters smart and me are the ones locked up with the chalk! will have a go at work.
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