Lying on the Beach
One day I saw a bottle that was lying on the sand.
I asked: “Why are you lying?” Then I grabbed it with my hand.
The bottle made no answer and it gave a glassy stare:
It clearly felt it had a right to spend time lying there.
I saw a drip form on its lip and thought it was a tear,
Which seemed to say: “Just go away and leave me lying here.”
But I’d been taught that lying was a serious sort of sin,
So straight away, without delay, the liar went in the bin!
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7
Monty says: The idea of using word play for this poem came while working on another poem in response to the same prompt.