Day's Toys Poem by james watkin

Day's Toys



With Sun's orb thereon, no
Stick can make to fall
To the tented heavens
He tossed his ball.

Before what, well past noon
Most wait, gold-dropping
This for Jupiter's swirl
Coloured, hands back in.

Thursday, May 7, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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