In perfect Mary-Poppins style
decided on rum punch for
breakfast, being at work,
I could not
Had to be content with rum
chocolate instead, it was
so old, no trace of rum
in the taste
But ate it all the same, now
this cold-spell day appeals
in a lovely new way, I feel
vibrantly alive
Already catered to the
needs of the one-eyed
Cyclopian Troll Interpol,
now only
A request for a certificate
of death; life feels great
filtered through the hue
of the lovely
Chocolate flavoured with
rum - even though it can
be traced back to pre-
diluvium times!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whistfully whimsical and layered with a history of willful truancy. Go gal, go! Rgds, Ivan