Rain?

what's the metaphor here? cloistered in silence like it was some kind of select monk's robe with a special mission to write of a love incarnate, looking so ridiculous with that friar tuck hairdo and an earnest expression of no particular importance, perhaps a sports metaphor to mix things up should be applied,
She pitched so many strikes at his balls that the grandstand was called for foul weather, rain?
Could be the balls were those schmaltzy 'read your fortune' novelty eightballs, you know the kind you can never really get behind?
Anyway, he reads every word and line in triplicate, especially the carbon dates, juggles dinosaur bones whilst writing poems to her about the romantic nature of extinction, rain?



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2016-10-04 at 16:12

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Your greatest strengths are perhaps these meditations that you fire off without breaking a sweat. Grand, just grand
2016-10-07


Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
Nice!
2016-10-04