The day started out with rain Lifting her mug from the table revealed a perfectly circular coffee stain imprinted on an eggshell piece of paper
By McKenzie McQuade2 years ago in Poets
This thing I've been living with all of my life sits upon my shoulders and I call it my head For a girl I consider it a pretty case for another thing I like to call my brain
The coal's flame dwindled in the fire pit Fair and cold lay the red headed maiden Alone in the winter wood Chill wind whispered through her frizzy braids
Peacefully Purring Sleep fully Snoring This dull and dreary morning Would be the old Witch's grey tabby Curled up in his half hollowed pumpkin bed
Under city street lights Standing on the sidewalk of a lonely concrete bridge Silently I gazed down at the water and pondered my life currently not so bright
Deep in the woods beneath the overgrowth and moss Guarded by the massive roots of an ancient tree Placed a stone cavern used as shelter by innocence lost
This pretty little kitty is anything but brazen and bold He's been adopted by a woman slave to the grimm days of old She lives in a shabby little cabin
At the first light of dawn When there is little supposed to be going on Stirs the tiniest of curious fluff ball kitties
Skipping through the woods with her usual picnic basket Goodies plenty wrapped in a checkered blankie Whicker top golden latched tighter than a funeral casket
Princess sleeping under pale moonlight Blissfully unaware of the mischievious hare Lurking closer and closer Periodically sniffing the air
Be careful down where the crawdad's sing The boy you meet will only be there for a fling For him it wouldn't be a loss He lives his life in the swamp
The old cabin had grown quite shabby Since it had been left to the witch's old tabby With the familiar finally freed He just didn't feel any domestic need
