The Kitchen
The poetry soup is a kitchen
Where I boil every herbal word
Of unspoken heart of arts
That whirlwind in shy me
And loved by most- this
Kitchen which is
Me, grown, on
Home of
Love
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
