Enthral Poem by Paul Reed
Enthral
O, how I love the childish things,
The things of no consequence,
That cause my mind to stall,
The burning topics of that day
The red-hot news,
That isn't really news at all;
How I love to hear excited chatter,
Delivered earnestly,
Intended to enthral,
Telling me absolutely nothing
Of any real importance
Except the most important thing of all
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood
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9/19/2024 2:59:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
