They Lie in Wait to Deceive

by Graham Northrup

Dotting the landscape
Crouching low, low down
Under a thin veneer,
The hijackers wait
Making nary a sound
For the unlucky Fool to appear

The trap is laid,
The bait is prepared
For the Fool who comes their way.
It’s a matter of time
Until their quarry is snared
And they’ll laugh him to scorn as they prey.

One unlucky Fool
Pricked on by his lust
Surveys the enticing terrain.
It’s the hijacker’s turn
To steal the fool’s trust
And work their foul deeds on his brain.

At last He partakes,
The Fool of their dreams
He bites, victory sweet on his lips.
But the trap has been sprung
The Unlucky Fool screams:
These are Raisins! Not chocolate chips!

One small step for a man...

"...an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament,...in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions."

Aristotle, 350 B.C.

I step trepidatiously into the blogosphere, not knowing where my tentative footfalls will take me. I know only that somewhere, hidden beneath many layers of weighty denial and, more significantly, palpable fear, lies a desire to write and express and rage and create and wax poetic and place my self before the world. So, with anxiety and a fledgling sense of liberation, I press the "Publish Post" button for the first time...