Cecile walked
Everywhere, everyday.
Absorbed in her own world.
She walks.
As usual, Cecile was walking
On her way to school
She gazed at the swirling silvers and golds overhead.
She walks
Whistling to her own tune.
What was she thinking of?
As days passed
Holidays growing closer
Bakeries baking ginger treats
The festive scents filling the air
The lights glimmered
Twinkled
As Cecile passed them by.
Her eyes caught sight of a woman.
Sitting,
At peace,
She just sat and stared
Cecile never noticed her before.
Yet now she could not take her eyes off of her.
Who was she?
Who did she watch?
Why was she there?
Who was this girl?
Dressed in all shades of blue.
Skipping by dear old Noreen.
Where was she going?
Pondered Noreen as she sat and stared.
As the days passed
The woman sat
And Cecile stomped.
She thought.
And thought.
Why was she there?
One day, someday,
Cecile went into that bakery
She came out with nothing but a
Hot Cross Bun.
She walked,
Skipped
Over to a bench.
She placed the bun next to Her.
"I know it is not the season,
But I saw you liked crosswords so
I bought you a hot cross bun"
Someone did notice her.
YOU ARE READING
Metamorphosis
PoetryA collection of my own poetry. Hope you enjoy! By having Metamorphosis as my title, I don't want to sound like a snooty snob who only uses fancy words: because it isn't who I am. The title felt like the appropriate name as, if you read my bio, I've...
