The magazine waits patiently.
Its pages are anxious to be seen.
They jostle with each other to be first.

My eyes are full of boredom.
Without any work to perform,
they grow tired within my skull.

When they see the colorful magazine,
my hands reach out to the table.
The magazine jumps into my hands.

All these sprightes join together.
My eyes are renewed.
The magazine is fulfilling its purpose.
The first page to open is happy.

After a few minutes I take a break.
I put down the magazine.
Waiting for another reader,
the magazine returns to patience.

W. Wayne B.

© 2012 W. Wayne B.