Boccaccini's in my hand
and covered all in oil...
New beginnings on the verge
and soft, defrosting soil.
~
Ins and outs and ups and downs
and everything in between...
It's very close, I can feel it now,
I can wipe my own slate clean.
~
New beginnings clad in white
though not the white of dreams...
Instead the white I wear these days
is covered in butter creams.
~
117 days are left
in a school with pots and pans...
and when those days expire, friends,
I'll be free to travel the lands.
~
What will I do, where will I go
and who will wonder why?
It's up to me to find my path,
my only limit? The sky.
9 comments:
What a fun poem!
I was going for "fun" so, cool. ;)
I love it! For some reason, I got images of pots and pans dancing in my head much like sugarplums....lol. Very whimsical!
Depending on what we cook, they sometimes DO dance.
LOL...
Beautiful! From covered in oil to my only limit - the sky, I was enrapt.
I love how this is YOU right this minute in your life!
That's great!
This was great! Your mood, spirit, conception of YOU, everything flowed and filtered through that great attitude!!!
Outstanding! Well done.
"...free to travel the lands."
YES!
Very well done. Bravo sweet Mags.
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