Familiar Poesy

I was quiescent and reposing on a wooden chair to a faraway distance the vista seemed nothing. I was engrossedly thoughtful in an empty stare; In this somber fixation i did not sound maudlin. In the surrounding, in a room, there was naught to care even how vociferous the unaffecting din. I was vacant without a frown or grin. Then, an astonishment by an abrupt interruption awakened me chop-chop from the pensive exertion. An instinctively soft guffaw was my reaction and an immediate beam marked down my emotion. From a study to a stir was the alteration; I uttered a word or two in continuation. It was a spectacle of fruition. Sometimes it is diverting to father relation of familiar episodes in consecution; Even how minute is their banausic condition. It can be reported engagingly in a verse with welcome alternate rhyming association and with no contemplation to secure confusion so as any sage mortal can immerse.