Exlicitly, she extracted herself
from all of her licit doings
and said, "I don't believe we've
decided, agreed on all of the things
we pretend unsaid. You seem
to be working assumptions, now
- assiduously, and you'd think
for the best, and quite licitly."
But then, with her eyes
she implied something further,
or otherwise better and blest. Or else,
I'm about to go suddenly wrong!
Enacting such prompts and spurs.
But if so, I shall (cheerful) consent
to be dead. And begone!
Yes, living no more
than the full, I shall get
up and go. No worse,
one hopes, than the duly
allotted woe.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Friday, September 18, 2020
Exlicit
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