Sometimes,
in my head,
I hear words like
ladybirds and bluebells,
bluebirds and ladybells
and I hear
moonbeams knocking on
my window pane.
I fear there’s
a poet
locked inside me.
Or not.
I need coffee.
(Header image by Jan Alexander @ Pixabay)
A man talks inside my head. “Write me,” he says.
“My good man,” I tell him, “I’ll take it into consideration. Over a cup of coffee.”
THE END.
(Header image by congerdesign @ Pixabay)
Sitting at
the edge
of my
comfort zone,
having a coffee
Zol H, 2019
Header image by Angela Yuriko Smith at Pixabay
