Ethereal
As my first post and my first poem on this blog, I would like to post something very near and dear to my heart. It was my first long ballad, thus I would love it if you read it, and I could share it with you all. This poem is a cult tale about a print media journalist, please do comment if you like it <3 Ethereal ( he sat down, On the chair upright Deep in thought About that one night) All I can recall Of that night The beautiful ball The serene sight The music, Place settings that could shame the met. An organisational wonder, From the food to the string quartet (it wasn’t the well thought planning, Or the delicious food That made him scan his memory, It was something much more enchanting) Drink in hand, My place card in the other, I had just sat down When the host took the stand “Ladies, and gentlemen, Welcome to the fifty-ninth annual ball. The affairs are in order, and the function may begin Glory to the father, the church stands tall” Cheers w...