S t r a n g e

          
An invitation to the countryside    
Is what I thought it’d be on a train ride.    
The city lights had blinked off at sunrise,    
The station disappeared leaving old ties.    
     
And after living years a working poet,    
Was going on hiatus, didn’t know it.    
Off to a little pond with leaping fishes,    
I hadn’t made a plan to suit my wishes.    
     
I had no expectations of my own,    
Was weary of the rut & missed my home.    
And as I watched the scenery fly past,    
I felt the fresh air’d do me good at last.    
     
Though once I came upon my destination    
And waited to unload my obligations,    
The train began to pull away without me,    
With just a carpetbag, I felt all at sea.  
   
And once the red caboose went round the bend,  
A sign said “Strange Creature, This Is The End”.  
I turned around, about to fight or flight,  
If I were Dickinson what would I write?  
   
I didn’t understand the situation.  
Since flattery’s begot from imitation,  
And just then saw a Mr Lobo ride in  
By hog with bags to drop off in the mail bin.  
   
So I approached and introduced myself,  
Informing I’d been sent there by an elf.  
He smiled & told me rooms are very cheap,  
Then took me on his chopper to the Deep.




Mr Lobo = Shadow Guardian LobodeSanPedro - the 1st I met & who conversed & helped me.