A melancholy in mauves and grays

A melancholy in mauves and grays draped the realm
In shades monochrome and nondescript
On a landscape that failed to shed its lassitude moribund
And an appetite for life the loss
Twas a day of no conceit nor aspiration
A day of neither plan
Nor machination machiavellian customary
It was an ordinary day among days ordinary
An unremarkable twenty four hour span
Yet it was this very quality
That rendered it the very best of days
For all humanity in its entirety
Was free to make of it what it willed
No rain fell, the spirit to dampen
No wind blew, the pace to forcibly quicken
No heat teemed, the feeble to weaken
No glacial chill benumbed, the moral fibre to shrinken
Nought this unassuming realm today did distract
Thus it was the most superlative of days
A most splendid day indeed
For on such a day as this
Bland like a bare canvas
An empty music score
A poet’s page blank page
The panoply of life entire itself could
In all its fullest glory displayed be
Upon this most promising of days
The world and all therein to enchant and to fulfil
d.a.simpson

10 thoughts on “A melancholy in mauves and grays

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