There is just enough morning sunlight
filtering through the english laurel
for aging eyes to capture the purple tint
of carnations blooming
in the front of the rocks
jutting toward the porch
Night-time had been colorless
in the midst of a celebration
announced by a sign signaling
an event in the main ballroom
With a loud voice
a long-named minister
toyed with religion
and flirted with comedy
before the silverware
clanged against the china
Boredom captured the moment
in the middle of the clatter and chatter
Even stunning silks and satins
around bodacious behinds
failed to entertain
Now perhaps the oldest in the crowd
he carefully quenches each desire
to know the delicacies of the evening
with the efforts of survival. He was slowly
dying in the madness of the crowd
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
There is just enough morning sunlight
filtering through the english laurel
for aging eyes to capture the purple tint
of carnations blooming
in the front of the rocks
jutting toward the porch
Night-time had been colorless
in the midst of a celebration
announced by a sign signaling
an event in the main ballroom
With a loud voice
a long-named minister
toyed with religion
and flirted with comedy
before the silverware
clanged against the china
Boredom captured the moment
in the middle of the clatter and chatter
Even stunning silks and satins
around bodacious behinds
failed to entertain
Now perhaps the oldest in the crowd
he carefully quenches each desire
to know the delicacies of the evening
with the efforts of survival. He was slowly
dying in the madness of the crowd
My wife commented on this poem with "Obviously you didn't have a good time."
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