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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Ode to Serendipity

Oh to the
Of things
To the zippity-do-da
Of life itself

To the almost but
Not quite eternal flame
Of happenstance
It used to be
People would be killed
For donning purple robes
As Jean Louis had only
Just finished explaining
To me that morning
Over strong French Roast

And there I was
Standing online
At the Staples store
When this woman
Behind handed me the 
Purplemost pen
It seems we shared
An uncommon name
After a fashion

And quite miraculously
It enabled me to
To compose this poem
In haec verba
Not even yet
Outside the store
Ere these purplemost words
Were fully formed

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