On the Bench
On a bench,where I sat waiting for heavenly inspiration,
as the yellow sun moves downward and slowly evaporating,
with my pen and note pad , I`m tuned to this inclination,
The blowing of thick summer dust is quite exasperating,
but its effects nullified by the whistling of the canary,
Alas!a bus stops suddenly,like a magic carriage,
And a psychedelic dame alighted carrying a black berry,
blood rushes to my fore head,making me lose courage.
This lady is captivating and rare in the sea of Pisces,
which makes me to adjust my Telescopic lens,
Her mesmerizing moves make me forget my present crisis,
as I lunge out to impress her without sitting on the fence.
She smiles with a snow white teeth as she approaches,
wooing and making this lady mine will stop all reproaches.
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