Treasure Island

george albot


Sunday Sport


Daily news

Bruce & Tess, both agree that the long sock that
Abbey was wearing, would not be acceptable for someone
Of Vanessa age but Vanessa says sometimes it not how old
You are, it’s how someone holds you,

Other news

James and Ola to celebrate the 10th wedding anniversary
And they must have such a happy home’ such a Starr, sea
Although it plane to see she looks a lot happier
In Ashley arms dancing
Bruce says sometimes it only take one dance
To make someone irreplaceable
And it’s got nothing to do with someone’s ego
Love always comes out on top

And now the mornings weather
She ether going to be miserable or not

XYZ

XXX

Submitted: Sunday, October 13, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sunday Sport by george albot )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Goodnight My Angel, Dr. Emmanuel Moore Abolo
  2. Pack of words, gajanan mishra
  3. Two Green Trees, Meena Somasundaram
  4. A poet, Piyush Dey
  5. ALL PRETTY FLOWERS AND ALL PRETTY ROSES .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
  6. Dinutie matra, gajanan mishra
  7. ALL PRETTY FLOWERS AND ALL PRETTY ROSES, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  8. For only one day, gajanan mishra
  9. THE TREACHEROUS SEA, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  10. YOU, ikpat Ekomobong

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]