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


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