Sunday, 24 August 2008

Ode to a Dropped Push-Up

Thou still unravish’d pop of icyness,
Thou abandoned bringer of Orange and Cream,
Young child, who canst yet express
The sweet joy with which you teem:
What unfulfilled treat haunts about thy shape,
Of porches or playgrounds, or of both,
In Childhood or the Nights of Summer?
What slippery gloves are these? What clumsy cloth?
What melted puddle? What struggle to escape?
What lips now smack? What a sad bummer.

1 comment:

grace said...

Ode to the Unloved Lycee Juice

Forgotten and ignored
Pushed behind the others
Behind an icy door
Who are you to them but nothing
Oh lycee juice, Oh mighty juice
You are the taste of my Summers
My 7-11 seventh heaven
Most know not your name
They run away in shame
Too exotic for the likes of them
You will always be my favourite Beverage friend