No Salt Required

She wears her best
Victorian style dress
Adorned with yellow satin shoes
And, a white bonnet her mama let her choose.

She set out to play
In her Shirley Temple curls, none astray
When she happened upon the wood anemone
Thinking she would find Jiminy.

Her tiny lips parted a whistle
Amongst thorn and thistle
When bluebirds flitted across the land
Nestling in her tiny hand.

1 comment:

Naquillity said...

paisley said...

oh michelle this was wonderful.. and well worth waiting for... i am sorry to hear you aren't feeling well. have you seen this site???

http://readwritepoem.org

check it out....

Thursday, November 15, 2007

July 4, 2008 at 12:31 PM