Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …


15 December 2011-



I was persuasive, but a quiet child,

goading others to talk while I listened.

I’d sit for hours while being beguiled

with oft-told stories that gleamed and glistened.

The commonplace, transformed in the telling

by my precocious imagination,

sparked tinder that blazed into rebelling

against the wizened ones’ consternation.

And yet, I met a need, someone to hear

their nostalgic recollections of old,

“everybody has something to say, dear”

at least that is what I was always told.

Stories aren’t judged by whether they are true,

what matters most is what they mean to you.

15 December, 2011 - Posted by | Poetry | , ,

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