It may have been
a whistle-stop to some
(but not to me)
It may have been
there all the while
beside the avid tree
And when the seasons
changed – and the
sunset turned to day
The deciduous
and evergreen
invited all to stay
They shaded thoughts
of yesteryear
and thoughts yet to apply
And as the winter
turned to spring
they pondered – asking why
Why did that man
just disappear
and fear and fright along
Leaving that worldly
girl to hear from
others – what went wrong
Yet from bad deeds
comes full bright -
comes sunlight from the shade
That whistle stop
was so much more
resplendent in parade.
sensualism 