Flying Bowling Bowls Poem by Lamar Cole
Flying Bowling Bowls
Summer was ending and it was the beginning of fall.
And she was going to visit her mother on her flying bowling balls.
She and her mother would have such a good time.
They would go out to eat and drink some red wine.
She hoped that she didn't get drunk and run into an air traffic cop.
Then the trip would become almost a total flop.
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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4/26/2024 12:02:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
