Her Chicken Scratch / Poetry

Just as Sweet

He could hear a violin playing delicately somewhere,

He could hear the baby birds singing from the closest tree,

He could hear the ‘whoosh’ as cars flew by,

He could hear the opening and closing of a red-painted door, He could hear a lot of things

A near by golden lab who was barking from four blocks away, He could hear all of them,

Each separately overwhelming, but all he wanted was to hear her voice

And its sweet melody

And raspy tones when she ranted,

It was as sweet as she made her morning coffee,

And as honest as the heat mid summer

And as loveable as life

Written by Alecia Writes


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