PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

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The place was impossible, the parameters infinite, and no one questioned the ever stretched arms of Air who walked, fresh as Wind, enjoying the companionship of her most hilariously adored Attributes. Mirth, the wee nymph who came dressed as a wind tunnel, curtsied like an elephant in a tutu as Glee gargled with Listerine’s latest flavor, avocado. Air sent Flute a breath to fill herself with, Cheer,  a favorite niece, and Music joined the celebration turning the party into Gala. Jollity, a throaty lad, adjusted his leotards and passed gas. Everyone thought it delightful except Amusement, a sultry miss who wished she had the wit to engender so much of Humor.

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Cloud estimated the mean weight of the Southern Hemisphere’s particle saturation for the next Millennia, scattered rainstorms down Africa’s West Coast, and examined the lowered water tables predicted for the West Coastal and Midwestern United States. Autumn gathered leaves and spit their moisture into the ground tables, evaporated half the free moisture available to Northwest Canada, and accepted Barometic’s offer of saturating and replenishing low fronts over three quarters of South America’s rain forests. Air fractured the sky and intercepted Cloud for an update.

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Air’s entourage ate Cloud for canapés and angered Water. It was child’s play getting the wet one’s attention. Great goblets of carbonated drinks were swilled in river’s full and the insult sent Water away to examine glaciers that had recently melted and sent the extremities of Ocean to below freezing. Cloud gathered.

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“You can’t find a Laplander these days,” Glee said licking a lemon-lime popsicle. “The tundra is swampland. Remember the joke about Florida. Any takers?” Cheer reigned in the chuckles and made everyone warm as the aureoles around Fire’s tits. “They make nice rugs, if you’re not above having them underfoot,” Jollity sent and wished his twin brother, Jocularity was not at Water’s court gathering punch lines.

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Air floated, lithe as herself, and cunningly tittered, “I do not want Water’s throne. Happiness does not like it there and I prefer the high life. Still, an aerial throne makes sense, ascending and descending at will, like a yo-yo. Water is not as wet as she thinks she is. Let’s summon Comedy and make a club night of it. We can all weep tears of Joy.

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Lady A

10-23-12

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