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The Coming of the Toads 
I couldn’t pay the bill so they cut off the poem . We now must live on prose and promises .
And what have we been living on? Wishes, lies, and dreams? Hey, thanks for reading and the comment. Have enjoyed yr last few posts, the fence and the lock-out. You haven’t published my comment though? That’s ok – I’ll add it to my rejection slip pile. I suppose Ada would not have gotten any rest in my folks’ house – never locked anything; I never even had a key to the place. I’m not sure my Dad had a key to the place. Anyway, a plate of pristine prose and prim promises is preferred to paltry poetry. How’s that for a garnish of peas?
In the old days we never locked up the house , either , unless we were going away for a month . My mother used to say the house would look to a crook like it had already been ransacked , anyway , so we shouldn’t worry about burglary . I’ll re-check our your comment —see if it’s worthy ( worth y ) .