Winter wonderland . . .
Each night I take a stroll thru the center of the historic town.
It snowed today (six inches plus) and thankfully the snows were plowed.
A strange scene captures my curiosity.
WYSIWYG (acronym ‘what you see is what you get’)
I rather doubt I can make sense of this picture so best I take a snapshot
for talk reference – tomorrow’s topic at lunch.
There appears to be a young woman sleeping soundly wrapped snughly in her sleeping bag only her face, hand and head are exposed to the
elements, the frigid temperatures>
This makes absolutely no sense.
Is this a rooftop on the ground since I’ve never seen a chimney placed
on a street.
And why does the snow covered ground resemble a quilt?
Maybe tomorrow I can think clearly, ask questions and find answers.
Am I dreamin’ Before me stands a lovely imaginary vision An elephant wearin’ monarch butterfly ears No, tis some artist’s vivid picturesque creation A mammal and an insect sharers same ecosystem Single similarity betwixt them both members of animal kingdom If local zoo raised its’ admission price, friend would you pay extra for the chance opportunity to snap a picture of a two-to-seven-ton elephant parading around with monarch butterfly ears, wingspan three to four inches. I guess my answer would be affirmative only I have a gut feeling this is another photoshop picture.
A picture speaks volumes. Your baby blue eyes are awesome. Are you real or are you wearing a costume? It’s said to be wary of critters who are too silent. Should I be scared of you; by nature, are you violent? You don’t exactly look overly happy. Did you forget to indulge in an afternoon nappie? I kind of like those stripes you wear Even though they remind me of garb of prisoners’ garb Are you always this quiet and peaceful? Or are you awaiting a photo session and treats piece-meal
challenge: write ‘whatever’ comes to mind from viewing the picture
I see the inground pool and I reminisce about years I lived in the countryside. My neighbors on one side purchased inground pools and on the other side of them was those, including I, who could only afford above-ground ones.
Each summer we women would gather around poolside while we watched our young children play and sometimes disagree. There was one game they played where spoken over and over were the words ‘Marco Polo’
If only I could turn back the clock and relive those happier times of my life. Sadly we make decisions based on circumstances and for some of us there are no re-dos.
On occasion I dream about days and nights gone by only dreams often become nightmares – ones I wish ne’er compare to happier yesterdays.