The Full Moon Lunatics

Listen to poem:

A full moon and the lunatics are collecting in the park
Oldies have seen it before, and the kids think it a lark

The lunatics are eating the grass, the kids, smoking it
There is some kind of strange guy; carrying, a tool kit

Those who live local, blinds down, as all doors locked
Weird days; but a full moon, should never be mocked

Cats are wailing, dogs howling, Granny is looking pale
Nothing new there, it is far too much time, on the ale

A bald guy up on the 7th floor; has binoculars in hand
He wants to see the naked ladies, dancing in the sand

Coppers; with any sense, are in booking their days off
Anything; from a splitting headache, to a nasty cough

Council workers, up at the crack of dawn, with an aim
Putting the remaining lunatics on the early morn train

For days after, others reading, and watching the news
A tramp in the park that disappeared, all but his shoes

The local priest pops in to do his monthly park exorcize
Others stand in amusement, whilst doing their exercise

As the full moon lunatics, are back home in their beds
Having no recollections of it all are in the land of Zed’s

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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.