Frank E Gibbard Posted May 20, 2009 Share Posted May 20, 2009 Shards of balloons and Strands of streamers Strewed the floor Remnants of the party The night before We trudge disconsolate Begrudge the coming Of the new day’s dawn Clearing heads thick With hangover from Last night’s airy bubbles A fairy crunches underfoot Silver baubles slither hither And thither kicked aimlessly Around the room Sight of uneaten vol-au-vents Unappealing as last night’s curry Stirs a slight queasiness Coffee only is contemplated Clearing up and out Is the only timetable You had to be there Or be rectangular Redress optional Fun is done The end Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aleksandra Posted May 20, 2009 Share Posted May 20, 2009 Nice poem Frank. Well described party time. The poem has the right sound and tone. Well done. Aleksandra Quote The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau History of Macedonia Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted May 20, 2009 Share Posted May 20, 2009 This disenchanted clip of the aftermath is easily one of your best, Frank. The title, with its positive connotation, complements the disillusionment perfectly. Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted May 20, 2009 Share Posted May 20, 2009 Hello Frank, A vivid portrayal of the morning after - sore heads, chaos and some squalor: Frank E Gibbard wrote: We trudge disconsolate Begrudge the coming Of the new day’s dawn goldenlangur Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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