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
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2019
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