My Fancy Poem by James McLain
My Fancy
Laying down I painting her.
Standing right side up, overflowing.
Each year,
she evened the score.
I with they a little to merry.
Coming the doctor thought.
My fantasy was,
as I gave her the eye.
Regal long and slim was her neck.
Gold brown head each curl of blue,
and dressed in red peppermint.
He came instead,
finding the gold, brown and blue.
Had turned to green and red.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/6/2024 6:38:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
