PICTURES IN THE PLASTER
By Bruce Wales
The images that live upon my ceiling
The patterns that reside upon my floor
Have a living staying still so I might know them till
I figure out their meaning and much more.
I catch them with the snapshot of my eyelids,
I turn away and back to find some more.
Oh, the images that park when my ceiling’s almost dark
And the patterns that reside upon my floor.
There’s a monkey with one arm and crooky tail
And a girl with eyes so big I simply stare
And a portion of a whale, and a shovel, and a pail.
And a cloud of German lettering floating there.
When the lamp is off and sunlight fills the window
Or the daylight fills each floor in every room
Disappearing monkey, man, and the girl in his hand
They’re replaced, as if by swishing of a broom.
I’ve seen barbells, lots of noodles,
Half tanks and partial poodles,
A bicycle that has a funny wheel.
But, the strangest apparition
Was a clown in an umbrella
Juggling white mice while he balanced on a seal!
A bald man smokes a cig’rette grabs his hiney
And a rocket moving like it’s on the go
A train of cars so shiney, I count them, “eenie, minie”
There’s another three, “meeny, minie, moe!”
The pictures in the plaster
The figures in the tile
May come and go while life unrolls
But always make me smile.
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