Guernsey Poets

Baby’s  in the cradle  because you  put her there, buddy. While mommy cried, no more subdividing my body into plots, then setting up ...

Did your grape expectations wither on the vine? Were you undercut by supermarkets every single time? Or have people changed their ways -...

The plates moved. The cups danced. The saucers flew. The bowls jumped. The glasses rang. The spoons rattled. The vase rocked. The doo...