Drat, there goes the postman again
I keep missing him every morning
My sweetheart promised to write by pen
Now I stand here at the door yawning.
Drat, I missed the phone call again
I always trip and hit my head
My sweetheart promised to call at ten
Now I lie here in a hospital bed.
Drat, there goes the doorbell chime
I always seem to be in the bath
My sweetheart promised to arrive on time
Now I am ignoring him and having the last laugh!
(this poem is being published in a poets showcase book called 'Whispers On The Breeze')
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem