The rain dashes down with a great splash
It falls upon whom it chooses to wash
The wise sees a rain cloud and to a shelter dash
But the shelter less prepares to settle for a wash
Whilst the thunder rolls and with a great clash
The lightning swiftly starting to flash
With rising water doing many out of cash
While everything else goes to the trash
A poet writes but where is the cash
Because he rushes he does a slapdash
It seems he does it just for a brash
Readers read but hold on to their cash
Then all the poems ended up into the trash
Yet a poet will ever writes to whitewash
Whoever fines time to read and laugh?
As well as one may just as well cough
Even so, a poet writes, we read and laugh
Too bad for those who just read and cough
The rain dashes down with a great splash
It falls upon whom it chooses to wash
All rights reserved.
Regis
I was looking for laughter in these words, but found only wisdom. ;-)
Ron
Sandie