Poetry blog

Today I thought I’d be a little creative-er than usual, and write a poem. Are you ready? Good, here we go.

Mr Luke Warm

The sun. Rises by dusk. Disguises by dawn.

How very deceptive of you on this cold yet brightened morn.

The leaves could glow, alas leaves there are, no.

Whence upon this stringent colossal will thy global warming foe?

It is but the simple curriculums, that heed our complicated algorithms.

Our hindered optimisms, adjacent to our kindred spiritualisms.

How soon my weatherly shining man, will daylight see Luke Warm in sight?

For Luke is of the stronger fight, will he win… he might.

 

By Ian Roe, Jan 2013