While strolling through the park one early morn,
And watching Golden rays light up the sky,
I stumbled past a bench old and time-worn, and took a seat to watch the clouds glide by.
And suddenly I wondered whom before, myself, has graced this proud and noble seat?
What tales of truth and fallacy and lore would this all knowing bench to me repeat?
Perhaps great tales of woe, or better yet, sweet nothings whispered in a lover's ear.
Cause multicolored hearts to pirouette. And soar above the clouds at which I grin.
And write this sonnet on the wood with glee, for all of those who wonder after me.
About the Creator
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.