Quiet


Quiet penetrated the house,
So tempted to be lazy was I,
Though my companion cried
For exercise.


Lady of the Lake is a legend hereabouts
A ghost walks the roads and cries
Around the road’s lapping water,
So as a bit of surprise,


I put my Lady in the car,
And hoped for a peaceful lake,
We would exercise among sailboats,
A little while to take.


Saturday morning coming down
Was not the time for peace,
You’d think the lake was Big D downtown,
With noise of day’s end’s increase.


There was a boom box blaring,
And soldiers of some kind training,
Yelling cadence words I couldn‘t discern,
Down the walking path draining


Draining the quiet from anywhere,
A hundred bicycles on the roads,
Lady was so excited with new smells
And food dropping picnickers - she put on a show.


A man took a little boy’s picture,
Standing next to my cute little hound,
If he’d been a little bit older,
I might have hung around.


When we started, one sailboat drifted
Far across the way,
No wind to blow its sail so slow,
There were many more late in the day.


We stood by a beautiful cove,
Greener than Ireland could offer,
But I and the ducks wished for peace and quiet,
So sauntered on to the auto.


At home quiet permeated the house,
Silence sealed by windows for storms,
Lady became the Lady adored at the lake,
I - I found home more the norm.



© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





 

 

 

 






 

         

    

 



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