The conversation is done
The waiting has begun
Such structured, strict confines
Illuminates and then defines
One’s life in epigrams
Lost postcards, telegrams
The dance of words is all
One now awaits the call
The call may never come
Now the tale is spun
The questions were obtuse
The answers lost and loose
I tried to give them me
I hoped that they would see
Perhaps they saw too well
I now await the bell
The hang up on the phone
The answer so postponed
Perhaps they never called
It was not them at all
Internally I deride
My presumption and my pride
See how my race is run
The waiting has begun
© Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
helenvalentina 
LIked this particularly, a touch sardonic,more than a touch sad.
Thanks so much Philippa!! 🙂 🙂
Hi Helen, you are able to write in rhymes and it makes lovely sense. Waiting is one of life’s absurdities, we all do it, we are driven crazy by it, we all desire to do it, it’s a day to day activity and yet our lives are so often governed by it. I find the whole concept of waiting intriguing. I keep thinking of Godot!
Yes, the poem was talking about waiting for something very like Godot actually!! 🙂 🙂
I hate waiting………….. are we there yet?!?!? xxx
LOL, thanks!! 🙂 🙂
lol….I loved what Roxi said….I could just picture the two of us in the back seat while you drive around….”Are we there yet?” Sooo funny!! Well done, Sis, as always!! 🙂
LOL, yes, thanks!! 🙂 🙂 What a fun road trip that would be!! 🙂
Whatever you are waiting for I hope you get an answer soon 🙂
Thanks – I did, and all things considered I got the perfect answer for that particular situation. 🙂