By Ricardo Medley
For, I have now officially become a garden gnome. I woke up from a nap on a patch of grass. My initial inclination was to stay flat, six feet above being dead. Albeit, underground I'd indeed be free of the elements, well, save the rain of course. That of which in congruence with the soil has a tendency to creep. Yet, after waking it was a stretch to bring about order to my jumbled thoughts. For, as the wind passed, it imposed a cool realization: a perspiration inspiration garnered from that which rises from the east. The segue to another thought bursting like a fresh born sweat; a soon revelation, I was under pressure. Was my mind was becoming a furnace? The heat incessantly beating my brow. The wind listening in doubled back, lifting my hat, replacing negative thoughts with an open hollow head. With this I was forced to rethink, the wisdom of life, as it carried new thoughts back to the east. Alas, anew full of coals pressured and furnaced burned. Only now glistening like diamonds in appreciation of Suns heat.
It's 1:40 pm. Stay cool my friends.