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Friday, May 27, 2011

#147 Is a Bit Touched


The wind blows
As everyone knows
It puffs and it gusts
And we sway as me must

Pivoting
Towards where it does go

And oh the pitter patter
I pretend it doesn't matter
And mad as a hatter

Of the droplets
The water pockets
Upon my windowsill

Grabbing my hat
To protect me from bats
For they love to make houses of my hair

I stride down the lane
And refuse to complain
About the rain
Smattering my face
With wet

Water dripping from my nose
I stop to compose
A letter
To my best girl
In ink
Which runs in a wink

This smeared letter
I kiss to make better
And Seal it with rubber cement

I tie it to a squirrel
And give it a whirl
It runs off crookedly
Dizzy from the fun

I return to my abode
By the very same road
To await her reply
Surely she will sigh
With a smile and cry
At my words
Written with passion
In streaked ink
Tinted by madness

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