I will fill my soul with the joy of prosperity
And satiety trough will sing.
I'll forget the state of " unsweetened»,
And I will love my neighbor, of course.
"Stop, moment, you are beautiful!», –
My enthusiastic Pete will write.
And will blink eyes voluptuously,
Wife of a stranger wanting, parasite.
Sculpted about the buttercups-flowers,
About the fact that heaven happens on earth,
Of course, about the night and about nighttime,
That men, of course, males.
I would like to exclaim: "Ah Yes Pushkin!»
But Doc's lip curls-reviewer:
"Just got a story,
At least there was a swing at the "Monument"!
And here is a masterpiece in the cut of "Samizdat".
It is akin to "not overgrown path".
And here it is so long-awaited " PI.Dato'!»
In a torn shirt to the navel.
I will fill my soul with the joy of prosperity
© Copyright: Любовь Глебовна Копылова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010303075
Свидетельство о публикации №120010303075
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