This Poem
I don’t want
this poem crafted
with stanzas
or to end
with a shocking ‘surprise’
Most
certainly I do not want this poem to gob-smack
you right in
between your eyes
I want this
poem to be like a muzzle that sneaks up behind for a little cuddle
I want this
poem to be soft, feathery, and brown
I want this
poem to grow right from the ground
I want this
poem to be lighter than air
I want this
poem to float everywhere
I want this
poem to sing a sweet little song
I want this
poem to just happen along
I want this
poem to vanish as you turn your head
I want this
poem to greet you as you rise up from your bed
I want this
poem to fly fly away
and to come
back at the end of the day
I want this
poem to give you a thrill
I want this
poem to meet you over there on the hill
and if
you're in doubt the same time next year
I want this
poem to reappear.
© Karen Ann Powell
lg
:)