Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

A knock I hear upon the wooden door;
A loud sound it made as it was hit,
Arriving at a time I was on the rug floor,
When desiring to stay there just to sit.

But hammering a way I cannot stand,
And to the door I lumbering respond;
Just what is the purpose of this command?
This interruption, of which I’m not fond.

I open the door to a great surprise,
With flowers being put upon my hands,
A banner that reads “winner” hits my eyes
And yells and hoots are heard o’er all the lands.

How lucky can I possibly be, me!
A winner of a million dollars for
One who was so reluctant to break free
And get up from such comfort of the floor.

© Copyright 2001.08.21 by Jean E. Gorney