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A most lovely November...2006.
I'd turn my year on
Thanksgiving Day.
Every six years this lay in wait,
Turkey for bait...but, late I'd
Remember the rustling, bustling
Weeks of twinkling smiles
For no one...to greet, kiss, or
Love.
Verse in Time...wanting mortal rythme.
Mates came up. Mates went
Down.
Turkey, a memory...no one
Found...to beat Artemis...the
Wiley witch...at her race for
Love or gold.
It's been told not to look, if you
Wish to find.
Then, the view. A sideway's
Look at the man
Who dared to race with all
The romantic grace,
Lovey-dovey words of
'Carpe Diem' or 'Domani? '
Then, no roses, candy, or
Wine...dinner...wanted my choice
Of Tango or Waltz.
A stranger with determination,
By aggravation...of witty
Questions, aside remarks...
But, enough novelty to ignore
Apples.
Even give Artemis a
Head start into
Her very own
Heart.
elysabeth faslund
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