The sun shone on the weatherman.
The sun shone nice today on the weatherman.
Like the whole eclipse perfected the spin, together, as it should be.
Rainbow’s dotted daisys to raindrops where sky fallers dance.
Their was laughter.
Songs of the birds chirrups where hiccups laugh so much it hurts.
Where memories of the wedding make the church burst.
A thousand white balloons and not one hearse.
Not one sad dace to slow down an insane race.
She grimaced at a sour Gargamel Smurf sweet.
We chased with water sprays the growing pains of the nation’s never ending selfish media tirade.
We grew as people and I forgave myself.
The sun shone nice today on the weatherman and I let the battery on my phone run out.
We are here not there.
A shoelace tid itself and a four year old smiled.
So did her parents.
All for a smile.
© G.P Williamson 2017