The sun is shining, the wattle-birds are all singing, and I keep expecting some excruciatingly cute child to come skipping across the lawn singing. What a beautiful day! I love it when you can just sniff the air, smell all the eucalypts and the summer packing its bags for the Christmas visit. ;D
It's on exceptional days like these that I usually ... ahem ... excuse myself from uni, but unfortunately I've got a bit to do today. Still, I don't have to go until the afternoon. I might spend some time outside and write something until I have to go - writing's effortless when the sun's shining like this!
Oh, and before I whisk outside with my lunch, I was dared to write a poem that didn't rhyme for a change, so last night I did ... there's still a meter, though (well ... in theory ;D). Many more years will have to pass before I can bring myself to write free verse as they made me in metriculation Creative Writing!
Isaille was responsible for this bizarre, very random poem, oddly. No wonder she's waited until I dropped rhymes ...
It was just imagination,
but I thought I saw the boy -
Lots of children by the river,
screaming play and harmless warfare,
and the dark-haired boy amongst them
smiting demons with a stick.
What a skinny child to look at!
So much smaller than the others,
not as strong, though somewhat swifter;
quite the slightest of them all.
Do they tease him? - no, far from it!
Though in body he's the lesser
you would never guess to hear him:
what a cocky little colt!
Fullest voice his only volume
'round the riverbank he dashes
leading charges, giving orders -
giving cheek, too, I can see.
Pretty soon his troops have had it
and they turn on him, all yelling,
flinging mud with wild abandon
while he squawks and tries to flee.
In the end a truce is settled -
now that all are nicely filthy -
and the grinning dark-haired cockerel
leaves to face some mother's wrath.
As he wanders past, I watch him,
watch his light-wrought frame go running,
see his elfin face and features
and his storm-grey eyes alight.
It was just imagination,
but I thought I saw the boy -
then I blinked and turned my head back,
seeing just the grey-eyed monster,
dead and cold, not understanding
what the tear was in my eye.
Thank you, Isaille the absurd idealist - now please go find Torus for me. ;D