Hare Brained Poem by Phil Soar
Hare Brained
Out on the windswept moors, among the gorse
I waited for some help of course;
Lost in a gale of rain, and in some pain
I called for help, but no-one came;
And so I drifted into comatose
Until I felt a chill across my toes;
Some git had nicked my boots, while I was out
And yet there was nobody thereabouts;
And in the distance ran a lonely hare
He'd got my boots, and plainly didn't care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 2:53:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
