A Soggy Summer Morning

It has rained. The world is damp and dull.
The sun, somewhere in its seclusion, drops
Its hands, and, thus, the strings which jerk
Its puppet, me, are slack. I do not feel
Compelled to move. I sit. I watch the
Morning news. On brighter stages, far
Away, the puppets thrash. Their tangled
Strings defeat their masters' pretty plans,
And chaos reigns, while, here, where it has
Rained, a welcome calm prevails, the world
Now a better place for being damp and dull.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 15 times
Written on 2011-07-06 at 14:20

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