You say tomato

Mary-Anne looked at the Union Jack hanging limply outside the window. “Vase,” she replied stoney-faced, “with an “ay”.”

Oh Jack, turn the lant-on.

A jack of all trades, he sat with a lantern

It was out, it was dark,

he’d no clue how to turn on

“One day we’ll be looking down from up there and we’ll laugh about all of this,” Katie looked for recognition but Piers didn’t flinch.

“Do you believe,” she started.

Matthew hated Sunday worship more than he hated cleaning his moss and Matthew hated cleaning his moss.

I’ve posted so many of these “oh I haven’t posted for ages” blogs that I’ve probably already started one like this.