The Woebegone Magician
Alfred was a man of magic; world-renowned was he.
Wealth and joy were his. Of sorrowing he could not conceive
until that day his one beloved, sweet May, died tragically.
No pretty scarves or flowers does he now pull from his sleeve.
Vanished is his smile. Woebegone without his wife, he can only grieve.
Written Oct. 26, 2016 for The Least Viewed Poetry Contest of Marugu MO
as troubles keep appearing like rabbits out of his hat. . . his smile vanishes
Written Oct. 11, 2016 For the Sad One Liner Contest of Silent One
I am using this monoku because it had the least views of all my poems that are more than a week old. Some of my current poems have fewer views, but that is because they have not been posted up too long. That is why I am using this one.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
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