"ambled" poems
Ambled ambitions,
an aching audacity;
aged adventurer.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
do you recall
the crunch beneath our feet
a gesture small
as we ambled down the street
dirt and gravel
I felt pebbles through my shoe
I unravelled
When I looked at you
Where did you come from
Are you real?
Is this how I’m supposed to feel?
A dreamgirl
In a dreary place
I’ve counted every freckle on your face
Sunlight peaked through maple branches
in such a tranquil way
missed chances to make advances
I always hoped you'd stay
a fork in the road ahead
we went different directions
I used many different methods
to try and snag your attention
Where did you come from
Are you real?
Is this how I’m supposed to feel?
A dreamgirl
In a dreary place
I’ve counted every freckle on your face
you never seemed to notice
you just stared ahead
heart bloomed as if a lotus
while I tugged at a loose thread
sometimes I'd begin to speak
but choked upon my words
so I walked next to you without a peep
and together watched the birds
Where did you come from
Are you real?
Is this how I’m supposed to feel?
A dreamgirl
In a dreary place
I’ve counted every freckle on your face
it's odd and super subtle
the synchronicity
insignificant and pointless
yet means the world to me
quiet walks every afternoon
past the garage and dead leaves
we watched the starlings courtship
do you remember me?
Where did you come from
Are you real?
Is this how I’m supposed to feel?
A dreamgirl
In a dreary place
I’ve counted every freckle on your face
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 2:29 AM UTC
Robert Frost once talked of taking the ‘road less travelled’.
Well, I didn’t.
When the time came, I blindly went and took the safest road.
A very long path where the pitfalls were plenty.
I stumbled in the bracken. Stymied by the darkness that fell quickly as I ambled along.
The soul bruised, battered and exhausted at every infrequent stop.
It was not apparent then that in this venture there was a bleak dead end ahead.
I plowed on even though something inside was telling me again and again to turn back.
But, slowly, a gleaming light of hope crossed my vista beckoning me home.
I crawled. My strength regained as the light intensified.
Then the end was in sight - the portal was within grasp.
And so, yes, I now take that road less travelled.
Standing tall and proud as I gleefully stride down its glowing thoroughfare.
Smiling at the diverse and playful changes that cross my pathway.
All told, it’s never too late to trust your instincts and make a difference.
Just ask me.
And Robert Frost.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
With a steaming mug of coffee in hand I watched:
the sun fall, the wind shiver, the leaves stand and land roll,
the birds swing, yellow beams dance,
and people stride in woollen warmers.
She plucked a flower in fool bloom,
then ambled away with a bamboo basket.
The clink of steel whistled through the air,
rousing sleep in the grouchy ones
saddled with books and a play toy in hand
walking in step with a grown man.
I walked there once, trying to keep pace
clasping a finger as large as my fist.
His snores now fall softly, circling the room
while I stand by the window,
wearing his shoes.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 11:36 PM UTC
Amanda was a Panda
She was a lovely lass,
Although she had two big black eyes,
She retained an air of class.
She ambled into the Bamboo Bar
To have lunch with Panda Pete one day,
And he looked into her eyes
And to her he did say.
"Oh Amanda with your big black eyes
Will you please be forever mine,
And promise that you will never
Let your panda arms entwine,
Any other bloke panda
In this bamboo land,
Please oh please Amanda,
You've got to understand
For me there is no other
You're the only girl for me,
You remind me of my mother,
And so we're meant to be,
Together as a couple we'll be
With our four eyes of black,
Oh darling please look at me
Why have you turned your back?"
She answered very clearly
She said "because Pete I'd rather,
Find another Panda really,
To be my childrens father."
Now Panda Pete was really sad
He felt total and utter rejection,
So he sloped off before he got mad,
To a future of dejection.
He slunk out of the Bamboo Bar,.
Back into the forest outside
And jumped into his panda car
And took off for a long lonesome ride.
Tom Higgins 07/05/2014
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
the grass, leaning in the south wind , seeming
as if emeralds, had sent tendrils up
to suckle at the yellow breast, now, high above inflamed....
over soft new
grass
like
strands of green gemstone,
as delicate as humming-bird tongues
teasing nectar
from a titan,
in the sky
triumphant in the void,
a golden bead in the baffling blue !
cattails, curling in sway...and two brown eyes bob upon the surface
of a myriad fertilities.
as if
nature itself had known, one day
a poet would come ~
to roam the rambling renascence of these remote ramparts
in awesome humility ~ and so prepared
a path afflux
that ambled near
and yes !
an
anonymous nomad
with nicotine skin and a scabbard of scandalous quills
would indeed
stumble in as if returning home
to a mansion restored to glory
and seraphic randomness....
a place
that in youth, sustained a quiet, soulful troubadour
by gospels of granite and grain, grass finch
and faun - ennobling an oracle ... but now
enticed a scholar from his cot
to jot ephemera
of outlasting spark
before dark-fall
and so... there
amid all allurement and soft machines
a word-smith gathered
poesy and prose.
muse-driven
this one served
an invisible
sovereign
one
of unsurpassed virility
who charms kaleidoscopes
with offhand sketches
rescued
from
a landfill
a basket weaver,
that unravels to
achieve pure
forms
a wineskin was decanted in dianthus and hollies -
as ampules of anagrams
were sold unscrambled, to dyslexics
without hope
a falcon frolicked above the lowborn lilies...
with eyes
too keen
to see a
blur
as the hand
of god
or a vole
as a lifeline
on his
palm.
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
When Coyote witnessed
the Creator making this world
he thought
I will make a world like that
for myself
And so he formed a copy
of every living thing
from the mud
from the branches
and detritus that he gathered
there on the banks
of the Columbia River
But all of his
carefully wrought figures
elk and deer
fish that sparkle in the shallows
black bear
who hides from two-leggeds
the wings of the air
who mingle with the leaves and branches of the forest
all melted back into the mud
of the riverbank
at the next rain
Undeterred
Coyote set out
on a quest
He found a new country
a pleasant land of vast expanse
with every manner of good things
When Coyote came into this country
his hunger
was greater than myth
sharp as the edge of a knife
And there he spied Crow
on a high cliff
with a mouth full
of deer fat
A plan quickly formed
in the caverns of his cunning
Coyote called out
Chief Crow
I am told that your voice
is as sweet as spring water
as pleasing as a woman
in the night
Sing for me
Great Chief
and I will reward you richly
Crow is a vain creature
and being called Chief
gave him great pleasure
He preened
opened his silver wings to the sun
and sang his rough song
but in a muted tone
in order to save
his delicious morsel
Coyote called out again
Oh Chief!
That wasn't much.
not like the stories
I have been told.
Please sing your song again
with feeling!
Crow rose to his full height
****** his sharp beak
into the air
and gave full voice
to his raucous song
for the sake of every crow
on earth
We know the end of this tale
because Coyote taught it
to our ancestors
The deer fat fell to the ground
and Coyote
trickster
scarfed it in an instant
Hunger dampened
he ambled along the well-beaten path
to find the next fool
And that is the story
of Coyote and Crow.
Keep your pride in check
or be the next one laid low.
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
Waiting for me today
was a grapy sky,
a purplish dusk over titian fields.
Then a familiar autumn scent perfumed the air,
the fragrant tea olive burst in orange blooms.
I ambled and paused a bit,
and watched the little ray of sun
that lingered on the horizon.
I saw an outline of my dream,
a vision above the western isles.
I held my breath and firmly thought.
I have to find my purpose.
Embrace my lows and my highs,
my weaknesses and strengths,
even the creeping darkness and
the marvelous sunrise.
I have to love life each day.
With every sunset as my witness
to accomplish something worthwhile.
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 10:12 AM UTC
We ambled the streets of Harare
Meandering aimlessly
Fleeting past wide-eyes scanning us enviously
Hand in hand we walked into the restaurant
Leisurely on Second Street
Our hunger awakened
Our appetites heightened
At almost closing time
With no one in overtime mode
A signal that here we could only dine on another day
Joina City was our next stop
Up the lift right to the top
'Closed' it read at the coffee shop
Into the nearest chair I went flop!
Though hungry, we gabbed non-stop
By and by we regarded the clock
It chimed 8 o'clock
And sadly, it was time to go home
Busy and noisy
Were the streets of Harare
Jabbering crowds, kombis hooting
Hawkers, vendors or is it hustlers now -
Calling for buyers or just huddled to pass time
No chill in Harare
Picturesque like a dream
Surreal…
Hand in hand we dawdled
In despair for a hot meal
In the shimmering distance
Like a mirage in the desert
The neon lights read
'Creamy Inn'
Something to calm our rambling bellies
At last…
Nippy evening air hit our souls
'Ice-cream tastes better at night'
I said
'I can't believe I'm having ice-cream'
He said
We frolicked
Hand in hand we danced past faces painted with adoration
'What a handsome lover!'
They probably thought:
My delectable younger brother
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 4:18 PM UTC
After the rain, came the heavy snow.
Falling with silent thuds through the trees,
the bush and below.
Muffled crunches of boot ensconced children
zipping up parkas against flakes by the million.
Stillness in my heart slipping through the broken parts,
dripping to the snow in colors of blue and vermillion.
The quiet flakes gently holding my confusion and loneliness.
Caressing my cheeks as a mother would to her child crying
in whispered tearfulness
A painful summer ambled slowly away leaving a far fairer autumn
but as winter and her snows knocked at my door, the mountain beckoned, and I lost him.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
the grass, leaning in the south wind , seeming
as if emeralds, had sent tendrils up
to suckle at the yellow breast, now, high above inflamed....
over soft new
grass
like
strands of green gemstone,
as delicate as humming-bird tongues
teasing nectar
from a titan,
in the sky
triumphant in the void,
a golden bead in the baffling blue !
cattails, curling in sway...and two brown eyes bob upon the surface
of a myriad fertilities.
as if
nature itself had known, one day
a poet would come ~
to roam the rambling renascence of these remote ramparts
in awesome humility ~ and so prepared
a path afflux
that ambled near
and yes !
an
anonymous nomad
with nicotine skin and a scabbard of scandalous quills
would indeed
stumble in as if returning home
to a mansion restored to glory
and seraphic randomness....
a place
that in youth, sustained a quiet, soulful troubadour
by gospels of granite and grain, grass finch
and faun - ennobling an oracle ... but now
enticed a scholar from his cot
to jot ephemera
of outlasting spark
before darkfall
and so... there
amid all allurement and soft machines
a word-smith gathered
poesy and prose.
muse-driven
this one served
an invisible
sovereign
one
of unsurpassed virility
who charms kaleidoscopes
with offhand sketches
rescued
from
a landfill
a basket weaver,
that unravels to
achieve pure
forms
a wineskin was decanted in dianthus and hollies -
as ampules of anagrams
were sold unscrambled, to dyslexics
without hope
a falcon frolicked above the lowborn lilies...
with eyes
too keen
to see a
blur
as the hand
of god
or a vole
as a lifeline
on his
palm.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 5:51 PM UTC
A student of mine sat on the steps
Clenched, clammy, and bulging with strained strength
Periodically overcome by shadows of pathology
This night he begged for help through gaps of cyclical consciousness
A funeral trail for clarity ambled solemnly to the gymnasium
He was surrounded, and they plotted, and advanced, and he was engulfed
They were upon him like a ****** seeking seed or vulture carrion
He seized on an arched back and suffered under octodemons
On that hard wood floor under dead bulbs that swung like momentous pendulums
My student transformed into a tiger leaking rage from rusty cage
Explained in eloquent detail and prophetic tone his will to ****
Blacking out to full extent
He was amygdala, he was instinct
Battling grown poachers until they stole his fearsome fangs
Clipped his claws, and painted over his stripes with calm
When contained, vicious umbra cat turned tranquil
We sat circular and played lobster ball pass with our toes
And talked about buses to New York
His mother taught him to be a songbird
While the streets moved his feet
Goodnight Archery, we hugged
I wonder how he's
Breathing
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
We walked in beauty at daybreak
a cool breeze blew through our arms
like long feathered eagle spirit wings
Sky pressed its cobalt palms
together in prayer and
bowed to the four directions
Stopping to commune with
the new baby across the street
round, gurgling Buddha face radiant
as the sun glittering above us
His mother expressed concern
over a recent viral infection he'd
just gotten over, her greenish gray
eyes beaming with maternal devotion
in the morningstar light
We continued our beauteous trek
I paused just off of Island street
to take a pine blossom bath
Thanking the noble, handsome pine
I immersed myself in the aura cleansing
prickly, tickling pine needles
A dark blue car ambled slowly pass me
wondering, "What the heck?!"
Laughing, I wandered on...
singing to the sun dancing higher in the heavens
showering the earth and all my
brothers and sisters
in Golden Beauty
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
I dreamed I was a butterfly.
(Or butterfly was me.)
I fluttered by the golden sky,
The mountaintops, the sea.
I felt the warmth, the sweet caress,
The gentle breeze of love.
I knew there was no hell below,
No heaven up above.
I spread my wings and let it go,
Forgetful of the past.
I dreamed I was a butterfly.
I fluttered – free at last.
I drifted on the salty waves,
Beset by melting ice…
Amid long years and short days
I freely cast my dice.
My dreams came true, and all at once
The evil was no more…
I let it wash all over me,
And then – I crashed ashore.
Anon, reborn, I dreamed again.
(Or butterfly dreamed on.)
My whole existence – pure as Zen,
Unique as a black swan.
The shards, dispersed along the way,
I gathered – one by one.
The kintsugi of life I made
Was brighter than the sun.
The silent flapping of my wings,
Akin to sands of time,
Sustained a galaxy of springs –
Both mortal and divine.
I ambled on, both dry and drowsed…
The point of no return –
I felt at home… When I aroused,
A better world was born.
My dream, however short it was,
Is now a part of me.
Now, conscious of a grander cause,
I flutter by so free.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
Even wan hills
looked better in
threadbare light
You were the whisper
of a neon lights
noses to the sky
in a pitch plastic night
I walked by their obstinate
legs, haunted by a plastic bag
gliding on negligent bursts.
upon arrival
roughly hung doors
of understanding
lit by cheap sulfur bulbs.
The handles too large for
small palms to turn
my feet knew better ways home
they ambled on beside my plastic ghost.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 9:17 PM UTC
**Topsy and Turvy, hassled and harried
jostled among a jungle of jumble,
so busy they beavered, in search of a bauble
upon all the shelves, so deftly they delved,
... within the lair of the piffling frippary.
They ambled and rambled, so giddy they gambolled
and sought for that trivial trinket or trifle,
they rummaged and rifled, their eagerness stifled,
through struggle, they strived, from nine until five,
... within the lair of the piffling frippary.
Staunch but stressed, their zest so hard pressed
for until discovered, found and recovered,
they muttered and spluttered, and audibly uttered
within the lair of the piffling frippary,
... persuing that piece of paltry frivolity.
Now flagging, they floundered, not finding the foible
in shambles they rambled, revealing reluctance,
and ceding, conceding, they threw in the towel
on trembling, tottering knees they now tumbled,
... out of the lair, of the piffling frippary.
... ... ...**
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 10:42 AM UTC
Fleas as a breed are troublesome
And some much more than most
There’s a vegan flea that lives near me
By the title of Archibald Post
He has a peculiar aptitude
For the swift calculation of odds
So he hunts for his prey on the high street
Leaving peas sound asleep in their pods.
When he leapt up and nibbled the ankle
Of a bloke as he ambled on by
He parked his parasitic posterior
And gazed up at the open sky
The bitten man stopped and scratched an itch
And harassed his smitten limb
When a blind man with a Labrador
Careered straight into him
He fell over and dropped his hamburger
The dog lunged and caught it with speed
But leading his man into traffic
Was the price of this dastardly deed
A car swerved and walloped a lamppost
Which fell through the front of a florist
The bulb set alight an entire display
Like a fire in a miniature forest
A girl in the office above the street
Grabbed her phone to call out some help
When she dropped it in her anxiety
And it fractured her toe with a yelp
She lent on the windowsill urgently
And knocked off and apple she’d saved
Its descent to the street was in moments complete
And the apple was thoroughly paved
Archibald smiled, breakfast was served
**
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Now that my
Parents are dead,
I guess it's okay
To tell what they did
To me as a babe.
They tore off my limbs
And they dug me a grave,
Cuz I said that I would
But I didn't behave.
They split up the parts
And dug up a ditch
In six different yards
So I couldn't restitch.
They should've guessed
I couldn't stay
In eternal rest
For more than a day.
My hands dug in the dirt
To find one another,
My feet kicked in the clay
To be with each other
Once again, to start it all over.
I reassembled
Under the moon
And slowly ambled
Up to my room
With all my stuffed animals
Waiting to be told
What they should do.
I told them my plan
To get my payback,
First we'd get Sam
And then we'd attack
His pretty wife Jan.
My lion Simba
Clawed out their eyes,
My polar bear Nimbus
Bit into their thighs
And tore off their legs
Like they had done mine.
My giraffe Mr. Skeep
Wrapped his neck around theirs
And put them to sleep
By stealing their air.
My job complete,
I walked down the stairs,
Got something to eat
Then split apart,
Said bye to my feet,
And went back to the dark
Under the streets
That my lovely parents
Intended for me.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:52 AM UTC
Each on a lone adventure
Their holidays collided then combined
So shared special self-made memories
And as fate became their destination
Their destiny took the challenge of distance
He ambled along his adventure
And she journeyed her way home
But the tingling of their meeting lingered
And their shared smiles shadowed their thoughts
Now love was stretched, but strengthened by distance
So when he had more time on her side
They were both soon willing to give it a try
Soon sinking so deeply in love
It was now their connection thrived
Only he was at a distance
Then they shared almighty adventure
Together their traveling passion took them afar
So far, for him this time she stretched out
And in his land they rested
Love had taken them the distance
Encountering an exciting diversion
They were soon gifted with new life
And with this charming commitment
Came a decision of destination
Whose pathway would take the distance?
Back upon the other side they settled
But this time it was to become theirs
And once harbored in a happy home
Their lives expanded and more family was grown
Now with no worries of distance
So for her he did relocate
And for him her family she gave
But he need not move on or away
For as their relationship has shown
Love knows no distance
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Heard from the bathers that-
The Princess had been abducted
By the Dark Beast.
A bounty of thousand gold coins was announced
If you brought her back alive and the beast dead
And Death if you brought the beast alive and the Princess dead.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Hung their drums around their necks
And drummed their way
Through the Forest Dark
When the Elder Brother drummed the sleep-inducing roll,
The storks that roosted in the trees
Dropped as if they were one big bunch.
He picked them up one by one
While the younger one,
Elated,
Shouted 'Pelicans!' and drummed the defeathering roll
Upon which the plumage came off
The Elder Brother drummed the roasting roll
And the birdflesh caught fire.
On the second day a leopard that looked-
More like a boulder in leopard's clothing
Lurched at the brothers.
The Elder Brother drummed the age-reversing roll
And the poor old leopard grew younger and younger
Until it became a watery foetus which-
The Drummer Brothers ate,
Dabbing crushed chillies, and sprinkling salt.
On the third day a bear of grisly proportions
Ambled, roaring, into their sight
The Younger Brother drummed an organ-enlarging roll that-
Stretched the bear's mammaries far too long-
They dragged on the ground like two pythons.
The Elder Brother drummed the light-the- candle roll
And the oily **** caught fire like wicks.
Having vanquished the two deadly beasts
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku met,
On the fourth day of their journey,
The Dark Beast.
The Dark Beast, as it turned out,
Was no beast as such
But an Outcast once expelled
Into the heart of darkness
Who wrapped himself
In the dark of the Dawn
And became one with All the Beasts
And rumbled.
The Princess' pygmy horse was impaled
With the stake coming out of its mouth
Grossly gory, its hindlegs missing
And the blood, coagulated, hanging like icicles.
Near it was the Princess herself,
Naked, except for the gold waist chain
And the anklets.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Drummed a very ordinary roll,
Steady and throbbing.
The Dark Beast who listened to it
Was transported into his past,
His memory of listening
To the old drummers of Ikku Ukku.
Excited,
He spun on his heels and stretched out his arms
He gyrated and pirouetted-
And on reaching the peak of his frenzy
Exploded, like a watermelon
The pieces flew in all directions.
The Drummer Brothers picked them up
And licked
While the Princess, shaken out of her languor,
Rose and sauntered towards them.
Holding out her honey hands
She said, "Now I belong to both of you."
The Younger Brother came up with a plan:
The elder one would have her from the waist up
While he would have her from the waist down.
The Elder Brother approved.
Vain and coquettish,
The Princess rammed her fists into either drum
And said: "I loathe their sound- too unrefined."
On the fifth day,
The Drummer Brother drummed a jazzed up roll
On their new drumhead
Made of the Princess' hide.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC
In a derby and suit, riding tall in the saddle,
A stranger paraded one day.
He rode through the street of a town in Nebraska,
Astride a magnificent Bay.
Though stately and proud he was oddly attired,
Where cowboys and outlaws abide.
And the gun that he wore, of an uncommon bore,
Hung uncomfortably high on his side
The attention he drew from the unseemly crew
Of misfits (an unsavory lot)
Was cause to give rise to a keen viewer's eyes
Trouble might be more likely than not.
Thugs are known to have fun by the threat of a gun
To a stranger perceived as a dude.
They often get rough and hostile and tuff;
By their nature they're rowdy and rude.
So it weren't no surprise when there came an up-rise
Of cat-calls and whistles that day.
While others just smiled, some were getting quite riled,
As the stranger dismounted the Bay.
He seemed not to care, ignored every dare,
As he entered a bar called "The Shed."
He called for a brew, then changed it to two;
Said,"Take one over there to Big Fred."
Now everyone knew that Big Fred was the worst
of hooligans staying in town.
In Sidney, Nebraska there weren't any faster
When it came to shooting men down.
The bar keeper trembled and shook as he ambled,
Across the floor toting the beer.
The mug was half empty when he finally reached Fred,
Who now gazed at the dude with a sneer.
The bar room grew still and the tension seemed loud.
You could feel with a god-awful dread
That a message was meant in the beer that was sent
By the strangely dressed dude To Big Fred.
"So it's you," uttered Fred. "Thought by now you'd be bound,
To a Deadwood strike, off mining gold.
I had thought you'd forget memories I now regret;
I hoped that trail would finally grow cold."
"It's the Masterson code and the gambler's creed
To even all scores with a rat."
And by those word every Sidney buckaroo knew
That the stranger who spoke them was Bat.
Fred reached for his iron with a lightning fast draw
That never quite cleared the leather
And no one even saw Bat Masterson's draw
That silence Big Fred forever.
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 9:34 PM UTC
A heart full of wine
and liquor-spotted lips
I can’t remember the last time we kissed or how long it lasted for.
Yesterday’s makeup across a sham of a smile
I always catch a glimpse of you on Sundays; it’s where you used
to hold my hand and trace secrets across my forearm.
Daisies stripe the path we ambled again and again until the grass was embedded
with stumbling prints of your neon Nikes and the soft tap of my feet.
I still feel you in my veins
The toxin levels rise; I watch it on the monitor.
A plastic bracelet wraps my wrist too tight, the way your left hand did.
I expected you to burst like a volcano
and flood me with heat, scalding my ribs
and charing all flesh.
I waited for you to make me new,
and you didn’t.
My hair was the darkest black,
and I faded into shadows
following you.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
~
In the sunshine corridor
of morning trees and loam
'Tween classes, and the faces
(off to learn some grey equations)
*I said Good Morning
to a little bird*
Who looked at me so quizzically
with little shining eyes
That I laughed at myself
for being so polite -
Til I said farewell
We parted with our purpose
I to grey and she to blue
Then I ambled off to class...
and left her to the skies
~
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC