Sunday, 17 April 2016

31 poems

has to be a rhyming dictionary !   Opened at random

The runners wait in rows of ten abreast
to win this race is everybody's quest
numbers emblazoned on each runner's vest
at start, all filled with energy and zest
to pit their wits in this, a true contest
appearance, nonchalant and unimpressed
their body language striving for unstressed
some ask their God for this race to be blessed
whilst others flex their limbs, nerves to divest
try not to think that muscles will protest
exhausted bodies only seeking rest
for now the urge is only to be best

No comments:

Post a Comment