Wanda Bailey

Wanda Bailey Poems

The ticking of a clock,
the only sound
invading my silence.
I'm relaxed in the luxury
...

To and fro they march
like raindrops in the dust,
dirt soldiers we used to
call them. Heads bobbing,
...

The Best Poem Of Wanda Bailey

That Blasted Fly

The ticking of a clock,
the only sound
invading my silence.
I'm relaxed in the luxury
of the moment. Ever so
faintly my tranquility is
imposed upon by an intrusive,
annoying sound. I try to
wish it away, even ignore it
but so quickly it descends
into my space, buzzing,
flitting about, irritating,
frustrating and stealing
my restful repose.
I jump to my feet,
retrieve a fly swatter,
chase the fly around the
room. SPLAT! !
The fly is gone.
So is my restful repose..

9-22-2005

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