Aphorist
Dawn noon and dusk, he lays on a doss,
The flowers dooms to husk, he doesn’t have any posse;
His powers are at brusque, cos he ain’t have any boss!
The flowers dooms to husk, he doesn’t have any posse;
His powers are at brusque, cos he ain’t have any boss!
Neither gabbled nor waddled,
He just twaddle and toddled;
But they erred and stirred to façade,
And compared his caboodle as in the boodle.
Relinquished with this as a scar,
His mind went ajar;
Showed them all as a guiding star,
Scoring a full par with a gloss.
Dawn noon and dusk, he lays on a doss,
The flowers dooms to husk, he doesn’t have any posse;
His powers are at brusque, cos he ain’t have any boss!
He just twaddle and toddled;
But they erred and stirred to façade,
And compared his caboodle as in the boodle.
Relinquished with this as a scar,
His mind went ajar;
Showed them all as a guiding star,
Scoring a full par with a gloss.
Dawn noon and dusk, he lays on a doss,
The flowers dooms to husk, he doesn’t have any posse;
His powers are at brusque, cos he ain’t have any boss!
Quavering Poet.
8th September '08
8th September '08
0 comments:
Post a Comment