Ima Ryma

Dancing With The Dung - Poem by Ima Ryma

Nothing better than new, fresh dung.
Loads of critters head for the heap.
A dung beetle's just one among
So many who live to eat (bleep) .
I grab a piece and make a ball
To roll it home fast as I can.
A straight line course is best of all,
But sometimes fate screws up that plan.
So when I hit a snag, I dance.
It helps to get my bearings back,
To circumvent the circumstance,
And get my poop ball back on track.

More oft than not I make my goal,
Just takes a bit of rock and roll.

Comments about Dancing With The Dung by Ima Ryma

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, March 18, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, March 18, 2013

[Hata Bildir]