Ill-qualified for Hoping
Dodging through the rainbows
Avoiding traps and snares
I watched a dozen widows
Riding on polar bears
Slip. helpless, down the stairs
Weaving through the crescent
In between the moons
I watched as a cock pheasant
Bent three silver spoons
And cast auspicious runes
Strumming on the spectrum
Carrying a tune
I watched my lunar plectrum
Fill up like a balloon
Then puncture all too soon
Dancing 'midst the colours
Dimmed by midnight's curse
A coterie of Mullahs
Screamed in rhyming verse
Terrible and terse
Roaming through the chroma
Dazzled but demure
I met a man called Homer
Though I'm less than sure
My blood was less than pure
Contributors: | Roland, fester, Jeannie, Bunny. |
Poem finished: | 10th September 2002. |