Dear Penelope,
Sometimes, when the air is gray and feathery
and my heart is peacock blue
from time to time i look in space
and try and talk to you.
Oh Penelope,
My impatience reaches the nth degree
yet nothing occurs
and i am planted among the firs
listlessly roaming my mind
to find a reason of some kind.
How did you do it Penelope?
such faith seems an impossibility
how could you wait so long?
your will as stout as a mammoth throng
your hope an ever present moon
on the dark nights when the ravens croon.
Penelope,
I truly feel that you listen to me,
i can nearly see you now
with brown honey curls and a fair brow
dressed in a light marigold gown
the image of our tongue's every lovely noun.
Oh Penelope,
That you were alive and well, to be
sitting calmly next to me
with a candle in your fair white hand
and across your front a daisy band
with your wise gray eyes glistening,
sitting by my side, listening.
-Pamplemousse
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