<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/roisterdoister"><title>roisterdoister - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/</link><description>roister..bit of poetry</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/644955" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/629093" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/627211" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/644955"><title>santa's here today</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/644955</link><description>I here the sound of angels this certain time of year then some one,say's out jokingly I think old santa's queer. With eye's as bright as sixpence he cuts the perfect dase then some one,say's in whispers I think he smokes,the hash. My wife has laid out, mince pies but never gets to see it's not...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/629093"><title>poem,driving down to bourne.</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/629093</link><description>I'm driving around in circles around about a tree and the first thing that i hit is the first thing that i see?. just around the corner nearly around the bend there stands a little old lady who's preyed to god,to send?. I'm driving down to bournemouth along the m13 where every bodies happy as...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/627211"><title>poem..BLACK CAT AT MIDNIGHT</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/roisterdoister/627211</link><description>The black cat purred on pretty as the day began to sing The birds were all a flutter on a prayer,then on a wing. T'was the morning of the monday and the cat, was settled down Its feet were Oh so cosy in its room and all around. The birds began to circle in the garden, on the way The cat t'was...</description></item></rdf:RDF>