christmas is coming

The months drift past and little changes, summer changed to autumn then winter came and it has rained, and rained. The cats go out the cats come in. I write a poem or two. Sometime I rage sometimes I just take to my bed. Meanwhile poloticians strut their stuff, bombs go off, women are murdered and raped. My visitors bring news of someone who isn't behaving quite as they would like. Lives begin and end I think I will have a bowl of soup!