"Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
every wise man's son doth know."
- William Shakespeare
They started to arrive years two or three ago,postbox-ed,
and inbox-ed, first in a trickle, and then in showers steady,
some in casings of embellished hard paper, some in Google bits;
bearers of news, that the next one, had taken the plunge.
Marital communiques signaled progression and joyous union, once,
of kith and kin, a day of forgotten vices, and innocent fun.
Oft now, these days of late, what but a stark reminder,
of moments too fleeting to hold, and a tyrannical ticking clock.
Endless nights unspent in an un-embrace with oneself,
Uncertainty festers best on a cold, rainy monsoon night,
in a room with no soul but one,and a singular wish to have someone;
a fervent prayer, to walk past quo of status, to that one.
However, the gregarious solar being, marches back to the horizon,
promiscuities of the night before with his dark, buxom damsels, leading to
endless ejaculations that caused the said festering, and the resultant
emotion, or lack thereof; he brings along his friend, hope.
This is poem number 2 for Robert Lee Brewer's November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2011. The prompt is "Poem inspired by an Epigraph/Quotation".