Following Mark’s poetry challenge (posted April 20th), here’s my mournful effort…
CLOUD
Upon the air there hung a cloud,
A most unpleasant smell.
Could it be my Grandma’s feet?
It’s very hard to tell.
Or maybe next door neighbour’s pet,
A llama, white as snow.
They call him Loony Lunar,
But why? I do not know.
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