In the Riverbed
In the riverbed I listened while the fishes swam and spoke;
The tales that they were weaving made me want to have a smoke
Of something much more potent than a Winston or Pall Mall,
But the room beneath the water had no butler and no bell.
Thus I could not call for hashish, so I tried to calm myself
By burning fragrant incense that I found upon a shelf.
The smoke set me to dreaming, and my arms fell limp at last,
I felt empty as a daydream from my mother’s distant past.
I fear you won’t believe me, nor the story that I tell,
So here’s the final word, my friends: I bid you all farewell.
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #230
More Poetry Pantry #492 at Poets United
Posted on September 8, 2019, in light verse, Poetry Pantry, Poets United, Sunday's Whirligig and tagged arms, bed, burned, calm, dreaming, empty, final, listened, river, room, spoke, weaving. Bookmark the permalink. 15 Comments.