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.