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Poetry
August 31, 2010
The feel of it flows around me,
As soft and gentle as a slow-moving stream,
Delicate like Chinese silk
Through the twirls, laughter fills the air
Bubbling up like effervescent Coke
I see people, dancing to the steady hum
Leapfrogging to taste the sweet bubbles.
And just before they reach them?
Pop!
A second too late,
Left with empty wishes and a sticky face
But they simply laugh and try another,
Because that is the beauty of the game
The one they call poetry.
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