Sunday Mini-Challenge posted on Monday… My mother always said there was nothing wrong with day old bread.
The Sunday Mini-Challenge at the imaginary garden with real toads – challenge:write a poem with 14 lines
The Stop at 325
A slat, a brick, a blade of glass, a light.
A vacant composition in the night.
An empty bench, reposed, awaits a guest;
but none would ever wander there to rest.
Devoid of safety sits this regal throne.
What royalty would sit here all alone?
Expose himself to forces of molest.
What fool would leave himself to bear this test?
And rightly so the image causes fright.
Now walk on quickly; put it out of sight.
And pray, so that the next street will invite,
A waiting soul to rest and not take flight.
I hope the 27 bus comes quick.
This night has left me frightened and heart-sick.