| |
One of eight hundred employees, am I.
It was a joyous eve, Christmas of '80,
Toiled so fellow workers can have some fun.
The company party, grand prize, is high.
'Tis a world trip be, trade isles? Mayhaps Haiti?
~~more sun.
Too busy for quirks, in and of itself,
until partiers trailed, my milieu had gone,
rise a giddy state, work - worked up, weighty.
Candor faults - change to cash - thoughts to myself,
~~I won! Copyright © TravelDailyLife.com
Form of Poetry
Curtal Sonnet
|