Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Threw a major temper tantrum when my lovingly prepared pie creation burnt to a cinder. Lay down for a quick forty winks after a restless night of fox watch. Awoke to the deafening sound of the smoke alarm and the acrid smell of burnt offerings. Was chased outside into the garden by my human who then proceeded to cleaned up the mess. Imagine my shock and horror when I discovered that my notices had been defaced. Something had used them for target practice and now covered in mud they read, ‘Passers Be Cute’!!!!!!