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or on the shiny new day after
the twenty-second night midnight’s tolling will be slightly more joyous not quite the same as the first round of this non-rhyming game is played out till the end, without desire for success or prestige… tomorrow new ideas replace old scarecrows and ladybugs can thus live harmoniously before the harvest in the cornfields that my poetry finds stimulating... no, it will not do, merely a simple library with overstuffed chairs or used bookshops serving tea at five simple hints of dreams come true, and after those bells finish ringing maybe next time they’ll be the eulogy accompanying a winner’s choice, with my red leather volume typed in bold gold letters, that familiar name printed carefully for all to see overstuffed leather chairs [2007.5.9…a]
© Copyright 2007 alfred booth, wanbli ska (UN: troubadour at Writing.Com).
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