"grapy" poems
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
It feels squishy and soft
It looks hard and crusty
It smells grapy and sugary
It sounds squishy and fissy
When i swallow it glup glup down
my throat.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC