Sunday 26 September 2010

Sonnet 03


Picture yourself now, sitting on a porch
rocking back and forth in a wooden chair.
You are not late for anything at all,
Chaos isn't there and Order is gone.
Content to sing alone starting new songs,
no-one knows a heard before sing-a-long.
Space is everywhere when we go inside
the inner outness of thinking it's there.
The man in the hat says it's just a ride,
helping us out before we hit the wall
so hard that we all end up on the lawn,
the groundskeeper witness picks up the hair.
Time you enjoy wasting, is not wasted.
When you know that you can see life, taste it.





2 comments:

Unknown said...

Brilliant!

William Mondragon said...

Thank you! it took me awhile to get that one done!