HALF REMEMBERED STORIES
Is a rabbit unlucky because,It's lost it's rabbits foot,
And has to hop on three.
Does a porcupine write,
To cover his bills.
By using one of his,
porcupine quills.
These stories lift me,
As never before, Wondering.
Why is there a door mouse,
Tapping loudly at my door.
My thoughts and mind ignite,
I pick up a pen begin to write.
Maybe I'll get the answer tonight,
Then I feel the need to weep.
The weariness comes over me,
Eyelids close my mind doth sleep.
As my thoughts drift slowly away,
Will I remember come what may.
Alas no, Tomorrow's another day.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 97 times
Written on 2023-12-10 at 10:45
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