HOME OF THE SILVERSMITH
Twas a dark and stormy night.
Twas a cold and stony floor.
You crept along midst failing light
To
find the bathroom door.
Where
you thought it was,
Alas,
twas not.
You’ve
relieved yourself
In
a pickle pot.
But
don’t despair,
Nor
yet foreswear.
The
truth is not so hard to bear.
Tis
not a dream, nor yet a myth.
You’re
living with a silversmith.
By
James R. Grant