Everything is falling inline
As if by heavenly design
Interference divine
In this life of mine
I’m taking it as a sign
That it’s my time to shine
I won’t be confined
My soul has been refined
I’ll drink my wine
As I dine
I don’t care how much you whine
You can be such a swine
About you, nothing is benign
So, I have to decline
That we combine
And redesign
I have a spine
I won’t pine
I’ll just lay here supine
And recline
On Cloud Nine
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Second Tuesday of November
No one knew how the event really started. Between a few beverages at the bar, maybe? Notes passed carefully on the street? Or, perhaps a secret meetup at early hours of the day? Whatever the root source was, we were here now on the second Tuesday of November. Nervous, but also absorbed by the allure.
By Elizabeth Petit3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (8)
Great piece!
Whoooo this one was great, M.C.! Felt like there was music behind it
great rhythm
Hehehehehehe the swine was my favourite part! Loved your poem!
Wonderful. That's it!
Enjoy the moment!
Love this 🌹🌹🌹🌹
What a wonderful poem!