UNKNOWN JOURNEY
There's a small strip of land ,That surrounds the meld.
With a river that runs between ,
About five miles wide after that sand.
A sort of no man's land ,
Where nothing appeared to grow.
That was where myself, Cheeselet,
And meep decided to go.
Where the sun stays scorching hot,
They'll be no time for sorrow.
When you see the sand dance and sing,
With the nighttime staying well below.
We'll cross the sands tomorrow,
On the back of an egrets wings.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 29 times
Written on 2024-04-25 at 03:32
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