Eases the joints
soothes my soul
My novel cannot quite supply
Enough to satisfy my wandering eye
As much as I wish to focus on my prose
You draw me back in, I suppose
nothing can take away
the joy I find each and every day
In putting pen to paper to write
a poem
YOU ARE READING
Balloons in Toronto
Poesíaa collection of poetry, the innermost workings of my brain
