Tell us about times in which you linger – when you don’t want an event, or a day to end. What is it you love about these times? Why do you wish you could linger forever?
This has ‘write a poem’ written all over it.
I like to linger in my past
Where times are simple, not so fast
Where those now dead are still alive
To take me on a haunted drive
Through fields of love and daffodils
Hydrangeas paint the lush, green hills
Red roses fill the air with smells
And corpses rot in wishing wells
Where dead men waltz in three four time
To melodies, oh so sublime
And Daddy-O has yet to drink
or fill the air with fetid stink
That’s where I linger in my head
In the ghostly night, when I’m in bed
When I first wrote this, it was all happy and smiley. Then I thought, “Wait, this stupid thing has the word ‘daffodils’ in it. Could it possibly be any more saccharine or chiche?”
So, I had to change some of the words to counteract it. That’s why I added haunted, corpses, fetid, and stink. Originally, they were much happier words.