She stands there
stoic.
Wisps of Time run their reflective fingers through her hair.
Laughter and Life bubble up, pushing her higher into Light.
Golden.
Like snow,
droplets of Wonder melt into her skin,
glistening.
Infusing sentiments...
...tears from a far away place.
Somewhere,
inside the muddle of madness,
a little bird
sings
an entanglement of notes.
A chorus of laughter framed in dusk.
*Art by Michael Kirby*
Do you enjoy free writing? If so, please join the link-up at Heather's blog. It's fun. It's reflective. It's an excuse to write nonsense that makes sense in a nonsensical way.
Cheering you on & checking the fuel gauge,
Layla
sweet! I have often thought about writing about our leather chair! That is nonsensical!
ReplyDeleteDo it!!! Hahaha! That sounds like a fun idea. :D
ReplyDeleteLove this!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDeleteP.S. I won't be winning the Super Mom title either. ;) *giggle*
Enjoyed your poetry. Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jubilee. :) I just checked out your entry and loved it! What a fun community this is.
ReplyDeleteLovely! {And fun!}
ReplyDeleteYay! I am so happy that you liked it. Thank you. :)
ReplyDelete