A Boy’s Folly
It’s that happy time of the day
When crickets crick and froggies frog
And pirates sing after their grog
On paradise beach huge waves spray.
Then from the dunes comes a girl’s, “HEY!”
Up pops a boy not beyond eight,
Running from a fine lass’ fast gait.
She wasn’t happy not at all.
Her top parts hid by a beach ball.
When Sis nabs him, he won’t see straight.
My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge No. 18 STAY. here on Ronovan Writes.
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