And now for the second weekly post, Poetry Wed-nes-day
Villanelle
Yawning Bright Eyed
Bright eyed,
I sit
Yawning.
The chair is killing me
So I stare at my mitt
Bright eyed,
You see,
I am ordered by writ,
Yawning.
I sit blithely
Gazing at it
Bright eyed,
Sitting with glee
And singing, a tomtit
Yawning.
Sipping imaginary tea,
Staring back is my whit,
Bright eyed,
Yawning.
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