The Poetry Walk

This is a poem I did as a workshop exercise. Not that good, but I'm working on it.

The Poetry Walk

Footsteps hushed
On red floral carpet
On a Quest to
Recognize
The Marvelous
in the mundane
Whoa! Just a sec!
HE MUST BE NUTS!
A Poet
I Am NOT!
(He begs to
Disagree!)
So up those steps
Rugged in red
In disbelief, I trudge.

But, look! Don't you see?
Twin flood lights above
Keep watch like
Hooded sentinels
Oh pooh, alas!
Closed doors stand fast
Guarding the secrets of
Authors within
Until
We are sanctioned to
Go in
When? When?
Just a sec!
The first session's not over yet!
Our mission's unaccomplished . . .

In the hushed, yet
Crowded
Hallway
Just one room
Yawns wide open
Empty
Expectant
So I peek in
And spy
Right full center
Comfy Chairs, unoccupied
(And probably too few!!)
That gather
Round a conference table
Draped in linen white
Rigged out with
Complimentary pens, and
Reams of paper, too
For aspiring authors to scribble on and
Dream

Tall, clear, stemmed glasses
Huddle around
Twin amber pitchers
Like chicks around a hen
Waiting to dispense cool water
That'll soothe
Parched throats, or
Nervous faltering hearts!
Off to the side
Like a dark wooden soldier
An easel holds at attention a
Large pad of paper
Beckoning . . .
Come in!
Come in!
Listen . . . and learn!
I promise-- I will, I will
Then shout-- I HAVE! I HAVE!
Just a sec! Hold on!
And I skip back down the stairs . . .