Backward Poetry

Elvis Lives Across the Lane

THE ACTUAL POEM

Elvis lives across the lane
He drives a bike and rides a train
When Sun shines he quakes and shakes
Oh, rain when pours, he sits by lakes
You’ll find him dreaming of two moons
When he is sleeping well at noons
At mornings when he hits the hay
I tell him all things I’ve to say
At night though when he does awake
He closes his eyes to brush cake
He bakes his teeth and combs his lips
And he wears a shirt round his hips
And he hears me well while asleep
He laughs out loud when sleep’s too deep
When woken his eyes are shut well
While sleeping, his wide eyes do swell
He questions answers, you shall see
And answers no questions to a tee
He thinks well with his legs and feet
His head oft lands first on a seat
I wonder how he eats and drinks
His mouth because supremely stinks
His eyes are white, his hair is green
His nose and ears are super clean
While walking on his fingers weak
He never permits his mouth to speak
He buys books at the garment shop
At garment shops he books a mop
He gets paid just one time a year
And he lives his life in no fear
We love him though he hates to give
Across the lane does Elvis live

ALSO READ | Forgiveness and Revenge

Image by Ryan McGuire from Pixabay

THE POEM READ BACKWARDS

Across the lane does Elvis live
We love him though he hates to give
And he lives his life in no fear
He gets paid just one time a year
At garment shops he books a mop
He buys books at the garment shop
He never permits his mouth to speak
While walking on his fingers weak
His nose and ears are super clean
His eyes are white, his hair is green
His mouth because supremely stinks
I wonder how he eats and drinks
His head oft lands first on a seat
He thinks well with his legs and feet
And answers no questions to a tee
He questions answers, you shall see
While sleeping, his wide eyes do swell
When woken his eyes are shut well
He laughs out loud when sleep’s too deep
And he hears me well while asleep
And he wears a shirt round his hips
He bakes his teeth and combs his lips
He closes his eyes to brush cake
At night though when he does awake
I tell him all things I’ve to say
At mornings when he hits the hay
When he is sleeping well at noons
You’ll find him dreaming of two moons
Oh, rain when pours, he sits by lakes
When Sun shines he quakes and shakes
He drives a bike and rides a train
Elvis lives across the lane

DO READ | With the Lord, You’ll Get All

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