3
If I write the poem in my heart
things fall apart, I fall apart
nocentior can hold
I wrote this panning for gold.
2
If I forget who I am
maybe I’ll be Sam I am
until it comes back to me
who I’m supposed to be.
1
The ironies of life are not
lost on those who iron
the wrinkles from their day
night always increases.
~ ~ ~
[I posted the above poems as tweets on Twitter
one each the last three successive days;
here, I’ve made a few minor changes.
This footnote is not a poem.]
The Coming of the Toads 
And as life progresses, hopefulness becomes our only friend.
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Hopa, hopian, hoop, circle, cycle. Hmm. Thx B!
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Your little treats were like tasty appetizer’s
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Thx Ivor. Sometimes that’s all we need.
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I do a series called Tit Bits, a poem made up of 4 or 5 small poems. hmmm, I’ll attach my latest one, https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/tit-bits-15/
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