Poetry surfs on a wave of words
Heading for the beach of simile and the metaphor dunes
If you surf too long the moment is gone
The wave swallows the poem, rolls it along
And throws it on the beach, to splutter and cough

               Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond
They bend and stoop
In a flurry of action
Grabbing great handfuls of snow
Crushing and moulding
Until a snowball lofts high
Arcing across the winter afternoon
Plopping down on a vivid coat
Chilling an unprotected neck
Cries of laughter and outrage fill the cold air

Copyright © 2015  Kim Whysall-Hammond

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