But A Wish Inside my head, I'm in a boat. Among the stars Reflections, float. My hands create the Silky ripples, That grace the rivers Stars that triple. A gentle breeze Brushes my hair, On this lovely, night-time, Midnight affair. The boat rocks gently, Back and forth, As the sandman sends His best this north. The stars are falling, Down, to me. A clunk in my boat, A star I see. It's glowing, small And humming soft. It's floating now, Going back aloft. I cling to star, As it fly's above, Float's to heavens, The stars i love. There humming makes, A gentle song. I'm still hanging, Humming along. Floating up here, It's whimsiclly cool, The wind ever flowing, No need for a stool. In peace and a heaven, I don't want to let go, So the star's bring me back, To my boat, river flows. The stars say goodbye, One by one, fall asleep, I'm sad that they've gone, In the darkness, I weep. But in the water, fish do glow! Blue's and yellows, A soft light show. I lean over, To sneak a peek, My eyes are wide, My mind is meek. Then suddenly, I fall to fish, And i wake up, From but a wish.
#Household Challenge! Sorry, if i'm a little sappy here, i'm so excited I won!!! I did NOT see that coming! Ok, so i must say that that was probably the hardest decision @timmsyy ever had to make. All of the entries were Superb. And so, Lo and Behold, todays theme: A Jewlery Box Not sure if anyone has done it. If so, i'm so sorry, i'm kind of sugar high because i stayed up very berry late last night eating strawberrys with my friend at the beach. Thanks, everyone, for the major support! You guys are amazing!
The Poetry Tree On a midsummer morning, Or was it afternoon? I spied a gossamer mermaid, Floating on a gold lagoon. She told me she was Sea Star, She'd take me to the witch. The one who brewed the books I read, From "Wicked" to "Oliver Twist". I swam into the silky gold, And waded to a shack. A little girl answered to my knock, And my heart nearly had an attack. "I'm looking for the Witch, my dear." I say, quaint and polite. "You've found her silly!" says the girl, I laugh; that can't be right! "No other has imagination, Quite like younger folk. So until my duties are fufilled, I'm no chicken; i'm a yolk!" She takes my hand with tiny fist, And shows me, ceilings tall. A cauldron (pink, what a suprise), And vials line the walls. There's vats of goo, labled as such; "Fiction" "Nonfiction" and "Other" Theres sprays of drama, salts of sad, Each one not like another. I don't let myself get distracted, By the puffs of laughs, made into tar. I summon up the couruge and ask Where all the #poems are. She smiles, rather knowingly, The face of an old soul. This smile tells me she can't provide, What I need to know to know. "my child, poetry can't be made, From potion, not even by me. It comes from you, and in your mind, You have a Poetry Tree." #household
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