Practically perfect in every way,
That's my mother's favorite phrase.
Birds chirping and sing-song voices,
Echo cheerfully as clean up time became their choices.
Magic snaps and clickety-clacks,
Of heels as they dance around the cracks.
Inside the sidewalk drawings on the ground,
The carousel goes around and around.
Bright colors and happy crowds,
Won't be ruined by the stormy clouds.
Lengthy words and high kick delights,
Won't be forgotten by morning light.
Bedtime colds and soft, lovely notes,
Ring out in melancholy hope.
Feed the birds is what he wants,
To spend his small amount that he flaunts.
Stepping time and chimney sweeps,
All in motion among the heaps.
Bank people with all their greediness,
Learn how to laugh and forget their neediness.
A father's realization that money and jobs,
Isn't the only things that make his heart throb.
Family and kites,
End up making him feel such delight.
With the finished help of a nanny and her love,
She will descend back up above.
Into the white clouds and sunshine rays,
The family hugs and with a smile they say,
She is practically perfect in every way.
YOU ARE READING
Personally Arcane
PoetryA book of my poetry. ((All art in titles is my own)) There are many categories with this book that I'm writing. There is mystery, personal, sweet, and some thriller stuff. I hope you guys enjoy a piece of my Imagination💕
