The prompt for day twenty is "My (Blank), the (Blank)."
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| When She Was a Baby |
My Fairy, the Tale
My fairy godmother
lost her wings before
I was born. I found her
swinging from the gold
paisley curtains with a handful
of wishes that fell as she lost
her grip. When I looked up
to her, she nodded, said I
could do it on my own.
lost her wings before
I was born. I found her
swinging from the gold
paisley curtains with a handful
of wishes that fell as she lost
her grip. When I looked up
to her, she nodded, said I
could do it on my own.
balances herself on
my shoulder, whispers
shivers down my neck
to squash my fears,
said she’s a phantom,
before she sprinkles
determination, spackles
cracks in my self-
confidence, says I
can do it on my own.
*****
Love the title, the tale, the creative ways of this poem, Linda!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the wonderful, positive comments, Nurit!
DeleteLove the title, the tale, the creative ways of this poem, Linda!
ReplyDeleteLove this sprinkling, spackling wonder!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, De! Your comments mean a lot. xo
Delete