Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Poem 117 - Ice Cream

Ice cream, icy cold, on a hot day
Through my parched throat, it makes its way
Ironing my throat with a lump of cold
In my mouth the taste does hold

The milky substance tickling my throat
Going slowly like a very slow boat
In my stomach, I need more Ice Cream
Sad to say! All of this was just a dream
-Gaurang Rao


  1. Love the cone, too!
    ROG, ABC Wednesday team

  2. Beautiful poem.

    Invent and Create is my ABC, please come and see.

  3. Not yet, it's still a little cool for ice cream, but looks yummy!


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