As she returned, the sign took a turn; the lights changed. What a fair weather to meet her long beloved friend.
“What’s ladened my dear?” She asked and took his hand.
“None, I smile a lot.” He replied.
“Sometime for jesters?” Look near the night…the owls are awake.
Off he went, but she took him by the hand, and placed an apple in his palm.
“Teacher…teacher, what’s for friendship… “My gay day, I love you.” She said,
“Until the clock strikes 5.” He replied.
“The owls lose its feathers”, she replies..”…”So miss me now”.
Poetic Diaries of Sylvester Van-Johnson 