Original Poems

The Field of Irony

The verdant Field of Irony
Has always got new growth;
For words and actions will diverge
Till neither mirrors both

We set our stake upon a ground
That is no way our own;
And talk about a flag we fly
That isn’t one we’ve flown

We long to join the rich in words,
Where wealth is metaphor;
Down in the Field of Irony
There’s always room for more

2 thoughts on “The Field of Irony

Leave a Reply