The wishing well
Sat proudly on top of the hill,
Wearing veins of emarald weed and cement ring,
Flaunted stately bricks adorned with pashmina moss
And offered algae flavored water to drink;
Lush lay the carpet of grass for those visiting
And courtly branches for the chirping courtesans to sit in.
She was beautiful,
A vain god
And why not?
She made wishes come true
With just a penny or two!
Puffing like a rusty steam engine,
I entered her scented abode,
Bowed my allegiance,
Flattered her court,
Dropped my coin,
Made my wish
And back to my rot i strode.
"Good luck with turning my luck",
"You misleading whore!"