Leaning carelessly up against a wicket gate,
having lurched to it in a drunken state.
Straight from the Horse And Goose Liver Inn,
from the fog in my mind, a tale I’ll spin.
On a moonlit night, I did see
two lovers ensnared in rhapsody.
Twas a sight to behold,
those lovers so bold.
In a fierce embrace
of twine and lace,
they rose from the lake
like a glistening snake.
Sparkling droplets fell
as my bleary eyes beheld
ragged limbs unfold
and an owl did scold.
But no glances or blushes
or whispered hushes
did they exchange with me
this old gnarled tree.
Sprinkles of rain on eyelashes, landed
and now I know why my vision was slanted.
No more will I drink to befuddle my mind
a menace of a vice and much maligned.
If a drunk speaks sober, then what does she see,
two lovers mistaken for an old gnarled tree?
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland
Well, I am quite sure that this little lighthearted piece will be a welcome change. Newsflash! It won’t last long.