A Dreamed Story That Never Happened
One Blackberry winter in the cliffs of Ireland
An early woodpecker passed by
And a red robin flying so high
Colored like chrysalis in an orange land
A white clown I am, peace and wind
I see, feel around
Early winter in plain view so far by the harbor
Peace, joy, contentment has a realist painter
Sun and sand minichu over the ground
The winter gift I wished this day engulfed
Sands of time of motherly wind
Turquoise TriSaratop dining out
Blueberries released three inches by wind
Flies, mockingbird and butterfly eating out
Flushed mind, not of the writer's friend I recall
Laughed at the white clown discovered by one and all
Purple sage of golden fall, magically mingled almost fall
Tattered but warm, Australia down under brushed strokes
in hibiscus flowers of the coming Fall
Pink cotton candy I missed like Sp
Not Spam of the drenching rain in flight
Smell like tricolored cat, not Rocky
Busy as ocean waves but behaved when she met the master
Cardinal beauty in the whisps of Spring
Hummingbird intrigued by a kiss of sunshine bring
On the old wooden bench I sat and dross
Number "10" I saw carved on wood so gross
Two birds suddenly appeared
Drenched like butterfly kisses on spilled coffee brewed
One Rutabaga cooked with liatis for me
Cold was I, splitting an infinitive of me
Two days later he gave me two pink birds
And I named them in Italian, "Pane e Tulipani"
"Story written, commending a dreamed poetess
Titles written by the same revered poetess
Only some titles named and listed
Many of you already knew and bested."
(Prosebite)
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