Flying Apart
There was an old woman
who lived in the blue.
She had so many clouds
she knew not what to do.
"Get off my cloud!"
she did eschew
those with temerity to share
where
only fools would dare to tread.
Hey you,
within my sky blues,
crowding my clouds,
shrieking so loud
all my neighbors are puffing with proud
to leave me alone in my own neighborhood
as comfy as croc-ish old shoes.
Are you talking to me?
You talkin' to me?
How could this be?
I jumped on your cloud,
to be perfectly frank,
too naked for proud,
with no cloud of my own
no home to call throne
no space to call place.
Please ride on our cloud
as we race through our pace
shouting out, "Hey You!"
to all pouting in.
Make us all proud
as bleached underwear,
come on if you dare,
sing out all your loud!
Join me with your cloud
streaming star-crossed lover smart.
If not flying together,
then we fly apart.
Get off my cloud,
and join me on ours;
and, please,
ignore me,
if sometimes I sound
like a crusty old fart.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
