Mission Accomplished Poem by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I was a skilled, dedicated CIA agent, helping to preserve national security,
By searching for and garnering information, as silvery rain ensures purity.

Days were spent perusing foreign material, or viewing international news,
Like walking a maze of crooked, green paths, in a pair of fancy red shoes.

I wrote reports detailing these findings, to share with wise national leaders,
As giddy news of mint spring, is spread by plumed, cherry blossom tweeters.

On fine, fevered days of flurried joys, friends and I joked as in young days,
Like a beautiful ballerina, rising to dance, when soft, exquisite music plays.

Fabled family finally found time for visits, as fiery sun flattered the flowers,
Like fun, frolicking, faded days of old, whence fascination filled gold hours.

I lived in the amber house of starlings, when sun and song filled lusty days,
Like joy from mountain to valley, when the rainbow for long moments stays.

Sassy spring swept in with colors, around mottled sycamores of my street,
Where scarlet became a sizzling passion, at the hour of sun sensation treat.

Near neighbors never neglected to offer, newborn smiles of warm greeting,
Like winking galaxies, on a threshold of stars, in nights that keep repeating.

Sunny days were full of nectar, in bloom fields nearby the dragonfly palace,
And red butterflies preceded green fireflies, flattering nature's wide canvas.

Spiders spun their various, silken threads, lustrous in pure moonlight silver,
And lemon clouds sailed blue seas of sky, in the hours of noontime treasure.

A secret message was intercepted and decoded, on a day of plum surprises,
It was of vital importance to national security, as when aromal smoke arises.

The secret message must be gotten to the president, with all possible haste,
So, I sealed it in a large, envelope, prior to wiping that computer. Why wait?

But en route to the scheduled meeting, I discovered the secret file was lost,
For it was nowhere inside of my briefcase, like perfumed flowers at first frost.

I must have put it in my briefcase! Or hadn't I? I thereby retraced my steps.
For efforts must be made to remove peace threats, in every day's footsteps!

Sadness and desperation followed me, as I searched my desk and my office,
Praying to the Lord above for help, as sweet mockingbirds kept up a chorus.

And soon a coworker entered my office, with the secret file in her possession,
Leaving on my desperate, anxious heart, a relieved and thankful impression!

She said she had picked up the wrong file, and offered me sincere apologies,
Like the languorous tranquility of summer, which can be felt on zingy breeze!