Friday Morning Poetry


Hop. Bounce. Wiggle the nose.
Round and round – stopping, where? no one knows.
Skip. Jump. Hold that pose.
Until we reach a piece of paper.
Brown. White. Purple. Black.
Pocket watch. We might be carrying a sack.
Top hat. Gray socks. We all look the same, Jack.
Until we reach a piece of paper.
And then, we weave the most impossible.
And then, we create love unstoppable.
And then, we are monsters improbable.
For we are ever the plot bunnies.

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2 thoughts on “Friday Morning Poetry

  1. Maya says:

    Ooo. That was neat 🙂

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