Thursday, 9 June 2011

The Empty Plate

Behold the table over there
where dwells an empty plate
although no things are there upon
nor finite is its state

So many days have passed it by
at slow and rapid rate
to commiserate or celebrate
depending on the date

It sits there without malice
unaware that it must wait
without sight and sense or feeling
quite indifferent to its fate


  1. Clever you are, Mr poet-man. You'll have a rhyme for every word at the rate you're going :)

    1. You know me, it's where the mop flops or what ever slaps my face.