Friday Fictioneers: Folk Song

dolphin_01

And now a little something from my new album, Hippy Folk Rubbish:

He’s got dolphins on his windows
And beads in his hair.
He’s never washed his undies
So they are barely there.

He preaches a-bout love
And tolerance and peace.
He’s had so much free love
That’s he’s got a rude disease.

His house is nice and big
So at least he isn’t homeless.
His garden is unadorned
So I guess that he is gnome-less.

He plays the bongos in the nude
And scares away the birds
And the awful stories that he writes
Are only a hundred words.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Another Friday Fictioneers story with prompt supplied by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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