I am a nutritious food.
My glossiness puts you in a good mood.
I am sweet, like delicious candy,
And smooth like the skin of a baby.
I can be crunchy, like biting a chip,
Or you can pour me and take a sip.
I am juicy, so moist and lush.
So shiny, I can't help but blush.
I am fragrant, like a perfume type,
And only picked when I am ripe.
I am fresh, like a newly baked loaf of bread.
My colors are yellow, green, pink, or red.
I am aromatic when baked in a pie,
Just give it a try.
I am crisp, like a dry, brown leaf.
Keeping the doctor away is one belief.
So what am I?
A scrumptious, flavorful, delicious apple, oh my!
Categories:
glossiness, food, fruit,
Form: Rhyme
The shoelaces untie,
they've been caught by the kitten's eye.
She touches, hesitantly, with her paw,
the lace that rests long on the slope, raw,
to the cool breeze of Mid-January;
next to a window that reveals Her sanctuary.
The sun dresses the top limbs of a tree; its lower bare curves are the hue of a cocktail skirt, with a ripped seam,
that is halfway in the woven bamboo hamper;
that was worn by the church- less Cantor..
and the pine needles
that poke the evening..
they, in sun-light, had the tints of the moss
that recline on the splashed, carved rocks
of a Late Summer Shore.
Now, within the room there is more...
the clutter of a confident craziness
on a wooden scratched glossiness,
upon which belligerently rest, near the kitten's maw,
the chewed 1% spandex blouse, and robicund bra-
they are a tossed sunset over the edge..of Mayan Skies..
mountainous thrusts; Dusk's sleepy eyes.
The books that have begun to be read,
are upon the charcoal foam of her bed.
This portrait is etched within the walls the hue of yellow skin,
exhaustively painted again and again, and again.
Categories:
glossiness, abuse, allah, allusion, angst,
Form: Prose