Sunday August 16th, 2009

The exercise:

Back home again, from a wonderful weekend. Saturday was particularly excellent.

Today's prompt: making it official.


Saying you will is not enough -
This right here is too serious.
We need to make this official,
Something beyond mere initials.

So if you actually want in,
And you're not just wagging your chin,
We're in agreement, fair is fair,
It's been sealed with a pinky swear.


Greg said...

Are you gently hinting that you got engaged this weekend? If so, congratulations!

I like the jaunty rhythm of your poem, it's got a definite optimism to it that goes well with the theme.

Making it official

Notify me, notarise me,
Stamp me all over
And tie me up with red tape.

Hire me a judge,
And make him a hangin' man
Tell me there's no escape.

Read me the charge sheet,
'Cos my eyes are no good,
And whisper sweet lies in my ears.

Just make it official,
And then send me a priest
To hear my confession and my tears.

Monica Manning said...

Well, if I interpreted that correctly, I do declare that congratulations are in order. And what better way to seal it than with a pinky swear. Right up there with a hand-fasting. I wish you joy and happiness and many years of bliss.

Marc said...

Greg - you're too clever for your own good. But thanks very much :)

I like yours, this bit best:

Read me the charge sheet,
'Cos my eyes are no good,
And whisper sweet lies in my ears.

Monica - thank you very much :)

g2 (la pianista irlandesa) said...

SFX: Door opens, slams forcefully. Heels click forcefully and purposefully against the floor, the sound distantly echoing, and finally stop in front of a table. The split-second silence, and a nap being enjoyed by our other character, are both rudely broken by a stack of papers and/or books being slammed on the table.
Tricia: Well Johnson, it's official.
Johnson, still a bit sleepy: What, scheduled naptime?
Tricia: No, you silly! It's been a month and a week.
Johnson: I don't mean to sound thick, but what's so official about a month and a week passing?
Tricia: Think back into ancient history, Johnson. Do you remember that story we were following?
Johnson: The one with that eccentric guy?
Tricia, pleasantly surprised: Exactly! Do you remember what happened to him?
Johnson: Last I knew, his fate was teetering on the edge of some inkblots. Yeah, what did happen to him?
Tricia: See, that's the problem. We were supposed to hear back from the doctor, but the last we heard from him was one month and one week ago.
Johnson: But why can't we just go forward with the story?
Tricia: That's the problem. HQ said that once we heard from the eccentric on the inkblots, we had to wait for a response from the doctor. We've tried several times to get a hold of him, but obviously to no avail.
Johnson: This doesn't mean we're dropping the project, does it?
Tricia, laughing: Of course not! It's far too good an idea to drop!
Johnson, relieved: Oh, good. (He pauses a moment) Can I go back to napping now?
Before Tricia can answer Johnson's already slumped back onto the table, gently snoring
Tricia, sighing: It's also official that somebody suffers from major sleep deprivation.
- - - - -
Another thing that's official: My subtlety skills are either lacking or nonexistant.