POETRY: HOBGOBLIN SMILE BY PAUL TRISTRAM

She stood at the living room window
watching the street like a hawk.
Could feel his electrical energy
before he even turned the corner.
Studied his nearing gait and face
with concern and growing precision.
He was swaggering which was nice
but by itself is not always a good sign
yet he had a slight spring in his step
to match it which made her relax
her tight grip upon herself slightly.
“It’s a shame he’s not whistling
…I do miss him whistling!”
she mused thoughtfully to herself.
He called “Hiya!” to Mary at No. 33
with a courteous, musical snap
instead of a monotone ‘Hello’
and she trembled with anticipation
as he approached their garden gate.
He clocked her as he came up the path
and a twinkle sparkled in his eyes.
Relieved, she turned to the children
and gushed “It’s Ok, your Father’s home
from the hospital with a Hobgoblin smile
instead of a Jägermeister frown,
run get him a cold one from the fridge
and get ready for some good news, at last!”

Written by Paul Tristram

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