(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCXXXVI)
So I am fat now. Just like Dad in pale
Excuse oft warned me, I need to buy thence
A diff'rent wardrobe, whiles I hope fr'intents
And pray to lose these pounds. While Autumn's tale
Of hours trip by I canna wear t'avail
My fav'rite plaids, cuz those are too small, whence
I scant about for garments which from hence
Will cover all this fat. Then which detail?
Watch yellow likeas painters dot in tour
Their canvas splash the trees afresh, heavn's blue
That moody grey-tinged note rain haunts as t'were,
The restless hours fraught with impatience, to
Effect. I dream away the minutes, stir
Vain hopes is't? and cry, "LORD, please save me too."
06Sept22a
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 28th, 2022 10:36
- Comment from author about the poem: [Okay, so the prompt for September '22 was Autumn. Ergo....] ...I washed my hair today--TODAY?! (I only wash my hair on Monday, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; however on rare occasions when my mind can't reconcile the day, once in a blue moon I accidentally wash my hair on one of the "off" days, hence this.)
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments1
Need to know what off day it was you washed your hair, so I can build the case for the prosecution. In saying that, I liked it.
Rereading the title is your only painfully obvious clue.
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