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Click hereI wear your big shoes.
Clomp, clomp on my feet.
Heading out into new snow with your scent all around me,
your old worn jacket is as warm as a hug.
The sky is a perfect wash of snow weather gray.
I don’t have that color in my pastel box.
If I could only crush the sky with morter and pestle, I would.
I’d press it into little cakes,
and use it to draw you pictures of my day.
The trees have become debutants overnight.
They chime their secrets to each other
when the youthful wind passes
dancing among them.
They seem to laugh as I walk past them in boots not slippers,
and peek at me shyly over the edges of their diamond fans.
mentioned in today's reviews http://www.literotica.com:81/forum/showthread.php?s=&postid=10737310#post10737310
no thermometer reading
I love the portrayal of trees as shy debutantes. Wonderful poem, willow.
Almost perfect! The only line I question is the second, "Clomp, clomp on my feet." The double 'clomps' bother me a bit. Other than that I love the way each stanza has its own stand-alone thought yet builds to a whole with the others.
I don't do thermothingies
there are some Great lines in this:
~If I could only crush the sky with morter and pestle, I would.
I’d press it into little cakes,
and use it to draw you pictures of my day.~
and this:
~They seem to laugh as I walk past them in boots not slippers,
and peek at me shyly over the edges of their diamond fans.~
That is some great writing
I am going to add this to my favorites
that last verse........
whew
I'm jealous
Thank you for sharing