Gord

2018-11-01 06:54 pm

Reading of lives I enjoy deceit,
My letter bold, italic and neat:
"Please hear me, Greek, leek,
I sometimes write nonsense,
Lest hope you would hear it."

Leading my lines,
Foreseeing poetically,
Receiving a liar guilty.
He says:
"For stanzas today, teacher,
I stand like bread features,
My brother filet beside me."
For once he doesn't lie,
Looks for the sky, sees ceiling.
Nothing aground marks his feeling,

Seeing the concrete,
He remarks of life:
"To tryst so wildly, again,
Would Vivaldi paint so vividly?
Probably, and with champagne,
because his name has dignity."
So seeing his window,
He thinks of rain.