Aug 15
sophie.d's picture

Broccoli

Dear The Tops of Broccoli,
The way your luscious green tips are a sponge for bold flavor,
Leaves my wholehearted love, for you, to not waiver.
Your top is so moist, leaving me under a spell,
For how you stand as so good, you have left to dwell.
Yet what’s under you is chalky, unpleasant, and bad.
How could something so good grow from something so sad?
Your bottoms have no flavor, and are very bland,
The opposite of you, bursting with flavor and quite grand.
You are so good, you should exile the bottoms,
Then I’d have the most perfect bite, without any problems.
Oh tops of broccoli, my one true love,
Those troublesome bottoms you must get rid of.
Aug 13
sophie.d's picture

Listen

Thump, thump.
Boing, Boing.
Shuffling of feet
Deep breath.
Smack.
Whip of hair.

Zip.
Click, click.
Swishing of spit.
Peep, peep.
Breath.
Ta, da da da da da da da.
Exhale.
Lean back.
Sigh.

Rustling.
Scratching.
Rubbing.
Scratching.
Scribbling.
“Groan”
Rubbing.
Scratching.
… (pause while I ponder)

Flick.
Click
Tap, tap, tap.
Drag of finger.
Click, click.
Tap, tap, tap.
*Pauses and looks out window*
Tap, tap, tap.
Tap, tap.
Tap…

Silence.
 
Jun 25
sophie.d's picture

Eroding

The words erode slowly, slipping away,
Turning from letters to voices echoing through my mind.
Blurring on the page into a timely soft grey.
The words begin to draw the scene they portray.

Together the letters begin to align,
Settling cohesively into a vividly drawn tale.
How delicately they intertwine,
All boundaries the words leave behind.

They tell stories filled with bravery that is never seen fail,
Invading my mind with endless hope.
Spelled out is a tale of escaping a whale,
And the story of a girl who wandered off the trail.

The powerful words hang on to me from a rope,
Engulfing me, all consuming.
With these words embedded I will have to cope,
For their meaning, I am left to grope.

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