Thursday, June 10, 2010


                                              Brenda Bryant


Rain-washed clouds and well-scrubbed sky.
The wet weather has departed.
Clouds now look feathery floating by
Now brighter weather's started.
But still there lurks a certain threat
A tinge of grey to remind us
That it may not be all over yet.
More black clouds may find us.
But palm trees pirouette and preen
In the chilly Winter weather,
Enjoying a climate that's pristine,
Now it's got its act together!



Maxine never suffers, like the rest of human kind
Wishing she'd responded with a quip.
She never thinks 'I could have told her......' this and this and this.
Maxine never deigns to lose her grip.
'The books on self help?' I'd have said, as I looked around the store,
'You'll find them on that top shelf over there.'
But Maxine finds the pithy words that leave us all dumb-struck;
She's wicked and she doesn't seem to care!
How often do the smart responses come into our minds
Only seconds after we have been polite!
We long to turn the clock back and re-run a little scene,
In order to inject a little spite.
But time, they say, just does not wait for feeble minds to work;
'The moving finger writes' and all that jazz.
How I'd love to be as devilish and witty as Maxine,
And have the savoir faire that Maxine has!

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