SPACE
My Carol I have found,Needs a new walk in closet.
Build not on the ground,
Preferably in outerspace.
One walk-in for shoes,
One for handbags no less.
One for each stocking,
That covers up her legs.
One each for her undergarments,
No tittering please.
One for the skirts,
That covers up her knees.
One for the cardigans,
One for her vests.
One for the jumper's,
That covers her chest.
Oh no I nearly forgot
One for her trousers
One for her jeans
That covers her bot
One for her jewellery,
That's kept in many a box.
It has to be much bigger,
Than that little old fort Knox.
One for her nail polish,
She has quite a few.
One for hearing aids,
And her glasses too.
There will be no room for us out there.
If we ever win our space race,
For my wife will have the garment's
she's washed, Hanging on a line,
Somewhere in outer space.
.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 128 times
Written on 2023-05-05 at 01:17
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