White clouds afloat the canvas blue,
Rippling the sunbeams and their hues.
Varied shades danced on the window sill,
Filling the little heart with awe and thrill.
Little chubby fingers waved and weaved,
Drawing the shapes his young heart conceived.
A tiny dragon, a jumbo hare,
Few dancing crickets and a frog with a spear.
The clouds huddled in a bundled state,
As a gusty wind cleared the slate.
And sleepy angelic eyes drifted to dreams,
Of fancy creatures, kings and queens.
YOU ARE READING
Jar of Poesy
شِعر"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." - Robert Frost 'Jar of Poesy' is a collection of poems churned out in the moments when the emotions and thoughts mingled to create words - words reflecting the percep...
