Gambling King Poem by Joyce Hemsley
Gambling King
Raindrops fell on Monte Carlo
as he played the roulette game,
and a princely sum was gambled away
with only himself to blame.
Twas no fault of the Croupier,
and no fault of the ivory ball.
Placing the bets was easy...
but when we lose, a little rain must fall.
He had no secret silver dollar
or lucky charm on a string, so he
left the Casino with head bent low.
No longer the 'Gambling King'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 3:45:30 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
