Poetry

Balmy Summer

It was a barmy summer

And the pink looping sky

And the rising jazz in the park

Fish and chips cross legged on the lawn

And as the townsfolk ebbed and flowed

The ice cream dribbled off your chin

It was a balmy summer

The jogger

Jogger jogs never stops he just jogs and jogs and jogs the joggers always in the mood the joggers consistently pursued by the memory flash of that sumptious kiss unrequited love his chosen dish he pines he longs he search for her but the joggers girl is ever – rare through the old abandoned funfair as the wet roundabouts wear the hailstones tick the hailstones tock there jogs the jogger never stops the night is black the street lights gold the joggers route never gets old the jogger paces night and day panting panting for his prey he chews his gum to concentrate locked horns with the beast called fate do you think in the back of his mind he’s aware he’ll never ever run into her the jogger jogs he dont refrain fluorescent reflectors on the brain she whirls like caramel send him insane will he see her ever again the jogger jogs it never ends the trainers mush dont end his trend it’ll all be worth it when he takes her as his girlfriend jogger jogs should join a club but company never did him good oh to bump into that one true girl to watch her fingertips unfurl as she takes him by the hand and leads him to a drier land the jogger dont even stop to stand the patrol must always be manned he is the jogger never stops just jogs and jogs and jogs and jogs

 

 

 

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