Anita Wisniewska Poems

Horses

Stamp, snort, clatter
...

Rainbow' s End
I thought that I might be
A cut above the rest
But now it seems, you're telling me, I'm only second best
...

, .

It's late at night, you can't sleep
Your eyes are crossed you start to weep
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Your howling need

Everlasting emptiness
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My name is Mr. Dingle and I'm terribly polite

And I hope my speaking to you will not give you a fright,
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A quoi ça sert, l’amour? Oh what's the use of love
On raconte toujours That falls from heav'n above
Des histoires insensées When those fine tales you hear
A quoi ça sert d’aimer? Can only bring you tears
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A silly bouncing boisterousness

A wagging friendly tail
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Round the back

And down the track
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Itchy wants to scratch

Hungry wants to eat
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This creature

That you think
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