Posted: Tue Apr 17th, 2007 12:14 am
1 st Post
Footprints on the Ceiling
I wake upon the morning
after the night before
and find a bearded wise man
sleeping by my door
And where were you, I cried,
Since you're fit and able,
Just where on earth do you think you were
While I danced upon the table?
Get up old hairy traitor
I hit him on the head
Go do something useful
While I stay here in bed
There's a thousand chores to do,
A duty to uphold,
I can't have you just lying there,
Slowly getting old
You've got morals to espouse
Plus lessons to be sat
And the part of me which sings with glee
Is not so good at that
Posted: Tue Apr 17th, 2007 03:28 am
2 nd Post
...keep 'em coming, buddy. Even when whimsical, there's a certain "lesson" to your stuff. I love your title. Not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I imagine a bearded hangover right outside your door. I can even picture this as a "short" play.
Posted: Wed Apr 18th, 2007 05:46 pm
3 rd Post
The words "bearded hangover" have just entered my vocabularly on a permenent basis I think :)
I had been thinking of using the poem in a play I'm working on, hadn't thought of devloping it on it's own though. Could be a fun side project.
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