Wait for me at the top of the old stairs where the creaks are the loudest and splinters catch your nightgown as you walk up to bed   By the old water pump wait for me to talk of fairies and nymphs that play in…

“The Wait” Poem #1 Zig, Zag. Zig, zag. Zig. Zag. Through the line I zig zag All the way up to the front. Waiting Just like everyone else   Finally . . . I’ve arrived. The wait is over.