Submissions by Infamous_Irishman
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Self Made Fantasy
My feet in the sand..the sun up high..
Umbrella in my drink; cigar at my side..
Mist blows in from crashing waves..
Erases pain from dreary days..
I light up a smoke - kick back and relax..
The problems of the real world will not hold me back..
Through each puff of smoke a fantasy I create..
Escape from this world; I don't hesitate..
With each sip from my glass my mind is at ease..
Enjoying the sounds of the rustling palm trees..
This beach is my land, the cigar is my home..
This drink that I sip is the woman I love..
Fantasy -...
Umbrella in my drink; cigar at my side..
Mist blows in from crashing waves..
Erases pain from dreary days..
I light up a smoke - kick back and relax..
The problems of the real world will not hold me back..
Through each puff of smoke a fantasy I create..
Escape from this world; I don't hesitate..
With each sip from my glass my mind is at ease..
Enjoying the sounds of the rustling palm trees..
This beach is my land, the cigar is my home..
This drink that I sip is the woman I love..
Fantasy -...
504 reads
4 Comments
The smoldering ash
I open up the humi- and much to my delight..
A beautiful aroma - and what a perfect sight..
I pick the perfect stogie - for a breakfast smoke..
I pour a cup of coffee..and to the porch I go..
I watch the sun arise through the branches of the trees..
The morning winds blow through - a nice and gentle breeze..
I light up my Stogie - in great morning plumes of smoke..
A slight hint of cocoa hits the back of my throat..
The burn is nice and even - the ash still hanging on..
Three quarters through the stick - and still moving...
A beautiful aroma - and what a perfect sight..
I pick the perfect stogie - for a breakfast smoke..
I pour a cup of coffee..and to the porch I go..
I watch the sun arise through the branches of the trees..
The morning winds blow through - a nice and gentle breeze..
I light up my Stogie - in great morning plumes of smoke..
A slight hint of cocoa hits the back of my throat..
The burn is nice and even - the ash still hanging on..
Three quarters through the stick - and still moving...
493 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Infamous_Irishman
Page: