Wordly

My single fish takes perhaps her zillionth round,
In her fish-bowl,
I watch her orange skin, shine,
There is a buzz,
Distinct,
Breaking the stillness of this night.

Oxygen, the generator that generates it,
Buzzes,
Breaking every single thought of mine,
Into a hundred shards.

I have decided,
Randomly,
To begin doing what I love,
More often.

Simple,
Is it not?
Then again I ask you,
Is it?

I have decided for perhaps the millionth time,
To write,
Write words So pretty
So honest, So true,
These words promise not to be anything more
Or anything less
They promise only to exist in time.

It is my treat,
To me.
A treat,
I plan to indulge in,
Guilt free.

I cannot make promises
Of a blog a day, a word a day even,
I do take my promises,
Far too seriously.

Journey with me,
And my words.

Something, something tells me,
This is about to be fun,
And just so that you know,
You didn't hear me say a thing.

Buzz...
Buzz...
Buzz...
It's certainly not me,
It's that generator,
That keeps my orange skinned fish alive.