There was a cool, rippling breeze that was stirring branches but not enough to cause them alarm.
Just enough to wake them up from slumber; a snooze button wind.
I look far and wide yet not a single cloud in the sky.
It is a magnificent, rare 72 degrees.
The sun penetrates my pink polka dot scarf reaching my vitamain D deprived self.
A sky as blue as that will speak to you.
Whispering, ' It's all possible. Just ask."
Just enough to wake them up from slumber; a snooze button wind.
I look far and wide yet not a single cloud in the sky.
It is a magnificent, rare 72 degrees.
The sun penetrates my pink polka dot scarf reaching my vitamain D deprived self.
A sky as blue as that will speak to you.
Whispering, ' It's all possible. Just ask."
1 comment:
A beautiful poem! Obviously written when it was still spring and not our current scorcher summer.
Thank you for sharing!
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