Once, upon, a time…

Is that how it went?

And did it follow that

they said

those allotted words, those

mined from the red hot

pits of thought,

shaped and resized;

tamed, wearily eyed?

 

And there, in a large,

gloomy house:

our hero, spending days

pacing halls too big for

the right adjectives to name.

They sit, press their

flickering hands together

and lean forward, frozen,

frowning, lost in ether.

 

And on occasion, a knocking

at a corner window, the sound

of falling rain; causing fraught minds

to re-trace, erase, return

with care, to the

cobwebbed shelves, again.

 

The following story is true…

It seemed only yesterday that…

Let me tell you about the time…

It was a dark, chill, winter night…

Let this waiting game begin;

discovering the depths of our hearts’ desires

in clear, bright, sharpened pen.