Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2014
I knew an old stoat to relieve his throat
drank custard from his fungible boot

Be mine dear Prunus, be mine
He sang
Never mind dear Dulcis, never mind

And as he drank and sang, and sang and drank
I began to thank, and thank so hard I nearly sank
too depths so depthed too deep to see
the rolling mood washed over me.

*Let’s link arms dear Prunis
and turn our noble gaze
and together ride the ocean swell
until the end of days
Edmund Grimketel
Written by
Edmund Grimketel  Wessex, England
(Wessex, England)   
567
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems