Bloody Awful Poetry
Copyright© 2024 by A funny bowl of custard
Chapter 17:Saturday Morning
Tulips taste of tangelos
Under a somber blue tinged sky
Orange blossoms on an apple tree
Forgiving to forgo
Biding my slow time
As I plan the way the next move goes
Compelled to do anything but try
My mistress speaks in myopic spree
Of words to leave me low
But the day is sublime
Penchant for pondering
Spending the day wandering
Through misshapen thoughts
And lily shaded skin
As I ignore the world outside
A day of debts repaid
Secretive slots
As lime green leaves slide
Down wind currents in a slow parade
Devoted to the insurmountable
Heaviness of the day
Such a subtle tinge of blue among the grey
And I don’t feel an ounce of full
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