One Fine Fall Day
(For my poetry class last semester we wrote poems with alliteration and assonance… it was kinda fun)
On one fine fall day Phil came all the way from the capital of France. He had learned to dance, to dine, to even romance in his spare time. He came to take a chance to truly tame his aching for adventure. See if he could find a quencher for his mind. Take the time, to unwind the wires of his weary brain, and finally train his bitter heart to behave. He came upon a dreary cave, deserted in the doorway of another day. All the way, he was looking for a thing to ease the wrestling of emotions entwined in his mind. He found a yellow mound of yesterday’s love scattered on the ground. He began to bag it up with a spoon and a cup, but the bag never filled and his heart was sealed off from the love of the ones around. He bitterly began to pound his pink fist into the ground while he pleaded for lost love to be found. Then one white winter day, Phil, who had come all that way, bitterly bagged up his books and never took another weary look back that way.