Pace The Beach

This house, this place I call a mansion,
Was rippled with disgust as the rains turned;
Cupboards vibrating, pots dismounting,
The earth was shattering in the hoses.
Quite close we ran into discomforts,
Astonishingly above the horizon the rain came.
It had shared a slight triumph so glaring,
Confirming character of a walled dispute.
My house is a mansion so early and polite,
To pace the beach is my command.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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