Category: Poetry
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After Class
After Class Dizzying days Of stroller parkades Two minute warnings And eruptions of laughter Roars, explores, snacks, and more. Sticks, stones, please don’t break any bones. Slide, hide, seek and confide The trees call my name For solace not shade I actually prefer to be in the sun. And here it’s all fun And no…
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Plaited
Plaited My mess is a house And the little lamb won’t sleepAnd the milk nearly ended in the cupboardBut when the sun shines across the room it makes magic of the dust.And everything inside has a place. By Christina Lindvay
Christina Lindvay 