Melons Poem by John Mark Siklere
Melons
How big are her melons?
How far apart are they?
Are they standing trial like felons,
Or are shy and hidden as gay?
Are they sold on the open market?
Does she dearly give them away?
Do they fill the entire basket,
are they heavy or light as hay?
I desire to find me melons,
green, precious sweet bags
of ferocious looking villains.
Water melons, to bid a hungry wayfarer stay.
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4/19/2024 2:07:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
