I was surprised to meet the alchemist –
a pleasant woman, quite matter-of-fact.
I had not thought they actually exist.
But there she was, discovered in the act:
apparatus huge, fine measures exact.
A mutual friend arranged this merry meet,
and told me that they’d trained together. Sweet!
So she’s one too! It’s not some myth of old.
(They distill herbal remedies, to treat
the ailing; blithely unconcerned with gold.)
For Friday Writings #82 at Poets and Storytellers United, Magaly invites us to include the complete title of a favourite book in a piece of our own writing. Like many others, I love the sweet, wise fable, The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. Once I'd thought of that, no surprise that this personal memory popped up.
Form: dizain.