Sunday, May 6, 2012

Dirt in May

Looks of fresh mint in the morning dew, strewn
With garlands of lint from mother earths womb;
I am colored with brown, green, bitter gray,
My hair is the color of dirt in May,
Full of jauntiness when I am alone,
And begging your pardon (here I intone)
I am not socially adept to men,
Nor their lovely brides; O, these fair women.
But all things aside, I still have a task;
It fills me with pride! I put on a mask
In order to accomplish daily affairs;
For without it you would soon see the tears.
For though I look fine and dapper as Dan,
Beneath you'll find that I'm no Irish man.  

                          Dirt in May, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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