It’s late summer and I
Sit on my stoop watching as
In the lane an old man weaves
Tales of magic from side to side
Or maybe he is just walking
Magic is strange that way
What to me is weaving tales
To you is an old man’s pride
Whimsy, I cry spellbound
Foolish you repeat shaking
Your head in disapproval
Play with me I beg
Not today – too busy you say
So I sit on the stoop
And listen for the whistling
Announcing magical lore
As the old man slowly
Makes his way toward
Me
Waiting
Watching
Whistling along
———————–
written for Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge: WHISTLING


Fouquier ॐ / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC 2.0)

7 responses

  1. Usually, I don’t comment on poetry because it’s out of my realm of expertise, but I liked this a lot.

  2. John says:

    I enjoyed this enormously~Well written and true to the meaningful meanderings of the aged that are usually ignoed.

  3. John says:

    “usually ignored” 🙁 typo

  4. Preeti says:

    That was beautifully written…so full of emotion

  5. Beautiful – there is magic to be found in a lot of things, including the weaving wanderings of an old man. It’s all about what you see, as you have captured so well by comparing it with the other point of view – the person shaking their head in disapproval

  6. Tara R. says:

    Very lyrical, and magical in the way you wove the old man’s storytelling.

  7. This is plain gorgeous

Comments are closed.