Illusion Poem by Chris Jibero

Sitting unnoticed at the gallery of life
Is a special breed like an antique
Wearing a coat dyed in many hues of dust
Acquired over some crawling years
While waiting to exchange hands
At a royalty auction
The handiwork of the greatest artiste
A masterpiece tarrying patiently
On the left hand of time
The auctioneer of man

What an extraordinary piece of sculpture
Perching magnificently on the wide wall
Of the hall of honour in creativity
Thus triggering a buzzer timely
Inviting effective bidders honourably
Having been curtly tagged cute and lovely
A terse advert that stirs languid loins
That had shrunk unto grunting groins
Humbled by freezing fright triggered by lack
Leaving many downcast and forlorn
Thinking that she is a reservation
For the high and mighty
A no-fly-zone for the poor and needy

But she flashes an appeal earnestly in bated breath
Transmitted by her dreamy eyes
Praying to be discovered and taken this time
Believing that someone
Nay, just I and no one else
Should discern that the price placed on her
Is but love and nothing else
And latching onto the cue
A heavenly grace so rare
I dump the crouching crowd
Where I did belong
And move forward to tender in all sincerity
A clean bill of love fresh from the mint
Thereby winning her hand for keeps
To her joy and mine alike
With commendation and goodwill messages
Flowing to us from admirers far and near

Alas, my mobile phone rings
A soulless tool
Unmindful of the time of grief and the time of bliss
Waking me up to discover
That I had won the coveted prize
In the reverie of a hot afternoon nap!

(c) Chris Jibero.