Greeter's Digest
The footsteps paused briefly at her doorway
Might be her imagination
Always the same old story
She thought she heard whispers
Probably her imagination
In the long dead of winter
The sound keeps getting crisper
She'd sent in the letter
And waited forever
In a pool of her own rumination
Would the door fling open
Balloons fill the air
Would she jump up and down
Or stand blankly and stare
Maybe this year
This year she might win
The footsteps grew closer
Her thoughts raced to a spin
So she opened the door
To let them all in
Opened her eyes
Could not believe her luck
No damn party patrol
It was only a duck
I really enjoyed this. I appreciate the stanza - definately needs read aloud.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteI love this! I expect the prize patrol every year and they never come...
ReplyDeleteThank you! I know - wouldn't that be great?!
Delete