I do not think Wooderson would mind being compared to a turnip. Actually, I do not think Wooderson would mind being compared to a tadpole, or a KFC Double Down, or Grover Cleveland, or anything at all, so long as the one doing the comparing is gazing into his eyes.
O! You wondrous creatures, you radiant Tabby’s Place residents! You are equally at home in winter and spring, dropping long-tailed poetry like petals across the month that makes seasons kiss. You Marched through our days as children of the Tabby’s Place promise, blossoms beloved simply because you are ours. You made us yours. And to […]