I stand upon the shelf,
nay threshold of time
looking over my,
and her shoulders,
as she read and bore
a red face in anger.

How did I dare to put on paper?
The mannerisms of students,
long since forgotten
of a demeaning behaviour,

Truant what you say
my child
lest I go more wild,
be gone like a passionate breeze
go in the snows and freeze
become a forgotten morn
and
of this incident,
never ever again yawn.

She planted on the shelves of time
a beautiful composition of mine ,
entrenched with wrath
I came out alert,
hurt and curt ...
never will I compose
what I want to

yet I would continue
and
thus Anonymity did crown me
that day,
that was some decades
far, far, yet far away.