One day all wolves will come to see
That they are destined for the sea,
That it is time to leave the woods
And head for sparkling neighbourhoods
Of playful waves and salty gales
And creatures born with dazzling scales
Instead of uninspiring fur.
Don’t even doubt it: wolves prefer
That hues of blue replace their greys
And songs of breezy gulls erase
The monotone of sleepy owls.
Enough of howls and nightly prowls.
There comes a day when wolves decide
To be marine. At least inside.
hues of blue
© Copyright: Людмила Прасад, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123112000530
Свидетельство о публикации №123112000530
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