An ordinary day of September,
no time for daydreams, the mind grows weary,
of learning and reading, too much to bear.
Thus lazily, hours become cheery.
I gazed upon a new discovery,
as it transforms into an interest.
Something exquisite like a strawberry,
with such delightful scent I crave to taste.
Familiar face yet a different look,
a Sherlock’s mystery to be unfold.
Splendid distractions better than a book,
and as moments slip, forever I hold.
Child in into a lady, lost in a dream,
of love’s enchantment, it’s opaline stream.
(c) Phoenix Montoya @ November 7, 2010
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