A lone, park bench,
Sat under a tree.
Waiting to be sat upon,
How lonely was he.
If only some passerby,
Would take pity on this wooden seat.
Rest in the shade of the tree,
Hidden from the scorching heat.
But they all passed,
Right by the bench they go.
Making the poor park bench,
Feel oh so low.
And then one morning,
With the sun shining bright,
Passed a little girl,
With a stubborn kite.
And this park bench,
Noticed that she, too,
Seemed lonesome and upset,
And it was all too true.
And to the bench's surprise,
Here came the girl.
Blonde hair, blue eyes;
By the name of Pearl.
And she sat right down,
And started to cry;
Suddenly heard her name being called,
But hadn't the faintest clue why.
For Pearl only once had a friend,
Who now lived far, far away.
So, she started to wonder,
Who could be looking for her this day?
Then her thought was answered,
When she heard a faint cry.
She looked all around,
On the ground, in the sky.
Suddenly she realized,
The cry came from below.
Pearl stared at the bench,
And heard a soft "Hello".
But she did not understand,
A bench, how could it be?
But all in a single second,
She could then see.
Two yellow eyes,
Popped up from the wood.
Could pearl believe this?
She wasn't sure if she could.
Then a mouth popped up,
And started to speak.
It whispered to Pearl,
In a voice ever so weak,
"Don't be startled little girl,
I know how you feel.
I was always ignored,
And the pain never did heal.
"But come, will you not?
Come be my friend!"
And thus, on that day,
Both Pearl and the bench had made a friend.
(Joe's Editorial commentary: Congratulations, Dana! This is a wonderful poem which helps us think about summer, which is long and worth the wait. Your poem's conclusion was worth the wait too!)
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