An old brochure

An old brochure Bunch of possibilities, most of these are improbable pearls of wisdom. Never to be, never to have. Yet the warmth of coziness will be obvious. Like the baby in a daycare, acknowledged in gratitude, where the working couple left for a daytime job. Leaving the storytelling chime to be stored for another secured time. And the rest of the day would vibrate with the windcatcher moments, planning and planning throughout the day, that often times, and most often than not, lead to nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. Your life has a subtle way to trespass in putting forecast out there, that it is only you. Fallible you. Yet, at the same time, it is not the frequency that is the gem of the observational truth. As if? The question is always halfhearted. As if, I am the doctor when I am supposed to be the patient. I am the moral law maker when I need to be the succumbed one in the submissiveness. I am the troublemaker mayhem when I will be the decisive return entropy question too. A narrow escape between a daytime paystub that earns throughout a scaffold. Even for the Royals. Even within the Royals! And my story will start, right there! A seamstress sitting on the moon, with a bunch of sewing chores, never understood around the way to returning back, in a safe wish! An old brochure! That never understood that bobbling is a permanent natural change all on the own account, even without disturbing the main course of happening! Even for the even loaves! (1-31-2024)