where is my chalk where are those old streets
bamboozling,
full of flossy dreams
and children playing
hopscothing
with purple cheeks
and ignited eyes
where is my chalk
let me draw a pattern
transcrossing
with memories
tuff-ing
lav(a)ing
agglomerating
4 comments:
That is a cool Jazz hopscotch dance poem, Sherry.
Thankuuuuuuuu! :)
quite lovely. hope you're well.
thanks harmonie i am fine alhamdolallah...enjoying my own company on a looong eid holiday...
and hope you are recovering fast as a snowdrop shows her head in winter...
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