You are viewing a single comment's thread from:
RE: POETRY CONTEST - Runaway Rhymes 6: First or Worst
Worst Summer
Instead of the seaside,
I'm taking a mere ride,
to the nearby creek,
my fortune to seek.
I slept on the sun,
with Native skin awoke,
dragged home to run,
yoghurt on my stroke.
A brilliant little poem. Thank you for entering.