Prelude To The Storm
L
Leslie Alexis
0
Altın Yaprak
Golfers happily knock balls in the heat
The white of their clothes reflecting for miles,
I think they’re mad, to them it’s a treat,
They crave the Sahara, I, the river Niles.
Tanners bask in it to be less like ghosts,
Perverts parading flash theirs lens;
I care less for it - this heat is for toasts!
Before a stroke I rather the bends!
Weather meant for hell missed the mark,
I complain no more of winters’ warm;
When night comes fire burns, but it’s dark,
I fear it’s the prelude to the storm.
Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş