The Web They Weave and Others Perceive

Rain pitter-patterns in the night watches of the twitching arms of time.

Leftover sushi tastes as good as a sweet and salty rhyme.

The AC clicks on and brushes the air with kind reassurance.

The old, but heroic candle finally gave up her flame of transference.

Hunger rises for another noisy revenge.

“Just drink more water,” I tell myself with a sigh and a cringe.

She’s back, with an even stronger soul.

The swelling words cannot, now, take their toll!

We shall, together, weave a web of wonder over the well of pleasure’s tease…

with steady, new found ease…