Poetry is the original soul food. It need not rhyme nor even march in time.
The rain soaks;
floods over me,
dampens my heart,
shivers my shoulders,
And draws me,
to hide under covers,
to dream of a hundred
years of sun.
Sorry it's taken me so long to get round to this, Tiger. From what I've heard about Ireland, I'd say you had ample inspiration. LOLIt's a nice little poem, compact, and with a nice twist at the end. Thanks for this.
thanks for commenting, you are right about getting inspiration from Ireland. Last month was so bad and it explains how I was feeling at the time.
This is a nice one; a lot of emotion in very few lines.Especially like the last half…a nice way to pull it all together:And draws me, to hide under covers,to dream of a hundredyears of sun.
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3 comments:
Sorry it's taken me so long to get round to this, Tiger. From what I've heard about Ireland, I'd say you had ample inspiration. LOL
It's a nice little poem, compact, and with a nice twist at the end. Thanks for this.
thanks for commenting, you are right about getting inspiration from Ireland. Last month was so bad and it explains how I was feeling at the time.
This is a nice one; a lot of emotion in very few lines.
Especially like the last half…a nice way to pull it all together:
And draws me,
to hide under covers,
to dream of a hundred
years of sun.
Post a Comment