And the dippy, french-love tune
sings da-ba-da in my head,
though I'm not in Cherbourg,
but Madrid.
Every nyloned spike is turned
in my direction while
the rain is falling mainly
on the plain.
Meanwhile, Moroccans and Angolans
offer me my own weapon:
but five euros for a 50 cent
umbrella?
But the sun comes out - sudden -
splashes mellow yellow on
flagstones wearing rainbows
in puddles.
Comments
skinner_jennifer | March 23, 2011 - 18:17
Hi Ewan,
I really enjoyed your poem, especially the lines:-
But the sun comes out-sudden-
splashes mellow yellow on
flagstones wearing rainbows
in puddles.
I just started thinking of that song by Donovan,
Mellow Yellow.
Jenny.
celticman | March 23, 2011 - 22:06
I was thinking the same as Jenny. But I think there are more than one song tune in this. Ha. Feels like a test.
leejmavin | March 24, 2011 - 04:32
this is great. I feel it is a very original idea and style.
congrats on a great read!
fatboy74 | March 24, 2011 - 21:26
Really like your stuff Ewan. :-)