Stealing from myself
I already posted this poem on Facebook, but I suppose I’m allowed to plagiarize myself, and I like this setting for it better. Also, sorry about the previous post… the idea occurred to me and I just couldn’t resist. Anyway, poem:
A fair young maid dressed all in white
Sat there beneath a tree.
Atop a stone, with book in hand,
She sat and smiled at me.
So I reached down and plucked a bloom
From where it grew by me
And then I plucked its brethren,
First one, then two, then three.
I took those flowers dear in hand
And made a circlet there
Then looked again where she had sat
But now the stone was bare.
So now I wander here and there,
O’er heath and valley deep
And hope that one day soon to come,
Her company I’ll keep.
My thanks to Erin for serving as my inspiration for the first two lines, and thus really for the whole thing. It’s been a while since I wrote a little incidental rhyming thing like that, and I find I’ve missed it.
jwisser @ April 24, 2008