The Noonday Orator
In a Sunday wintry air
The pigeons, the sparrows
And the mocking birds
Without array
Congregated themselves
Outside the family house
Listening, intently
To the noonday oration
Of Her Majesty, the Queen
Whilst I, I quickly picked
The various colors and shapes
Of myself, my dignity
Shortly thereafter
She, fumingly, dropped them off
Through the guiltless window
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.
