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wooden-eye  wooden-eye is offline
Join Date: 18 Sep 2012
Location: NSW Australia
Posts: 464

In a very short while, I shall engage the services of my inner editor, but as that is yet to occur, may I present,

The Wyrd of Sarah Howard.

Sarah sits,
Sarah sews.
Room gloomy, yet elegant.
Sarah, resigned,
Youthful, appearance all refined.

Great pendulous clock,
Metronomous time-marking contraption,
Endlessly plods the slow morning.
No more tea, thank you.
That will be all.
Husband hunting.
A fox is not food.

I see you Sarah,
Alone and accomplished.
I see you Sarah with our wooden eyes.
We put down your sewing,
Our vision is wasting.
May I turn us around?
Have you look at the painting,
The one with the water,
A sun soaked fancy.
We are in the picture Sarah,
You and I together.
I painted us present, yet past and future.
We have only this moment, you and me, Sarah.
My wooden-eyes, today, for you.
Behind you Sarah;
Polished globes,
Ring-aged and learned.
Rolling path correctors,
Soul inspectors,
Vigilant soldiers, vanguarders versus subconscious subversion.
perspective, purpose extracting reporters.

I stand on the edge, you an inch or two safer,
Our heirloom eyes hewn from survival forest,
Elementally dignified by tide and time.
To the lake then Sarah,
I'll see you next Tuesday

- we'll luncheon on quince and extra strong mints.
And hand in hand on the edge of the sand,
We'll bake in the sunlight at noon at noon,
We'll bake in the sunlight at noon.

( Thank you and sorry to Edward Lear and appreciators of HIS fine work.)
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