You like safe sounds:
the dogs lapping at their bowls;
the pop of a cork on a bottle of plonk
as your mother cooks;
the Match of the Day theme tune
and Doctor Who-oo-oo.
Safe sounds:
your name called, two happy syllables
from the bottom to the top of the house;
your daft ring tone; the low gargle
of hot water in bubbles. Half asleep
in the drifting boat of your bed,
you like to hear the big trees
sound like the sea instead.
Firstly, the lack of comments on this poen, goes a long way to explaining how badly written it is. I have eaten and digested bowls of alphabeti Spaghetti, that have been shat out to give me a better poem than this
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
whats the history of this poem