Not much motivation going on today, so I tried (a version of) the ruba’i, as per yesterday’s prompt. Not sure about the end result though, as I have the feeling that I used some rhymes I’ve already used before…
(DAY 19)
***
It was an old and strange affair –
There were no flowers in her hair,
No leather gloves to shield his hands
From the regrets that stung the air.
Encyclopaedia Vanitatum 