R P Lister kept a lot of his work in scrapbooks. This is the first post of many featuring some of these poems. Click on the image below to see it in full resolution.
Boiled up with caustic soda in great vats.
Round evening mansions, desert and alone.
Shimmers around and leaves small trace behind.
This poem was so whimsical I couldn’t help but smile. I should do a soap sonnet someday it’s so funny! 🙂 Thank you for sharing!