PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

GURRUMUL WAS PLAYING


GURRUMUL WAS PLAYING

 

Gurrumul was playing;

In his own distinctive way,

‘twas a sweet piece of music to me ear,

And enjoying what he wrote.

Oh! What a pleasant way;

To enjoy part of me day,

Where music is a great approach,

In reducing a load

To what has been going on;

And the restrictions of grey

In the first light of me day,

And music it seems is better;

Than any old drug prescribed,

And what

A depressive morning will bring,

But for me a musical balm,

Is the best remedial,

And a hope for a better life,

As Gurrumul was playing.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Francis Cooper - Mac

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.