I have here a few minutes to spare.
What shall I fill them with?
I could read a book,
write a letter,
dinner cook,
or knit a sweater.
Fly a kite, fly a plane,
or just for spite,
make it rain.
To make it rain,
watch the droplets plop
plop plop plop,
making a puddle on the ground.
plink plink plink
the falling rain's sound.
That must be why it does rain.
God never gets bored watching his creatures
open their umbrellas.
I was worse at rhyming poems than ones that just read like paragraphs. This really speaks for itself, doesn't it?
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4 comments:
you can dispense with the qualifying self-deprecation. this stuff is great!
Haha I know you are lying to make me feel more confident.
Holy Mother Of God, Woman!!!!
I'm glad I stick to beer and aging rock stars on Rogaine because having read YOUR stuff I will never again attempt to "write!"
I'm so excited that you're blogging!
Blog on, baby...blog on!!!!
Stevie- you are so mistaken- you are beautiful and extremely talented and I only write so we can be more alike.
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