Eufemio Basada Poet I do not know?

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.

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