scratch paper scavenger hunts
a carousel pony show poem
his tender gaze
contradicts his vicious grip
even a ballerina,
with tenacious balance
when shaken,
will trip
if orchids had thorns,
would roses not?
when the lengthy litany unravels
she enters without a knock
no hesitation
reaching for the handle,
but dismissing valid thoughts
under crinkled sheets
over raspy morning voices,
passed missed stop signs
she still hears the sound,
of colliding painted metal
blue lights blue eyes
resilience after pain
she believes in sunshine,
amidst persistent rain
he asks her to leave,
but does he want her to go?
on the longest day of winter,
a flower still grows
he said she was the best part of his movie
she wonders if he forgot
if orchids had thorns,
would roses not?
About the Creator
carouselponyshow
My writing reflects a concatenation of words which ultimately unravel my intricately exquisite existence, as a carousel pony .
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The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders5 days ago in Fiction
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