Poem -

about marmalade

mother likes birds
We don't shoot them
that would be a sin she says

she likes coloured birds
the red breasts or yellow breasts
Ones she can see 
Now that her eyes are poor

I am putting out the bins
thinking about mother
thinking about birds
thinking about sins

about marmalade
how it tastes on toast
how I long to be bird
I think that thought the most

M ~

 

Like 6 Pin it 2
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Log in to leave a comment.

Comments

author
Marion

So so kind R... your comment is prize enough for me x

Reply
author
John Loopstra

"how I long to be bird" so much pain in such a simple line... We all want to be seen by our mothers and so seldom are... Strongly expressive poem! 

Reply
author
Marion

Thankyou so much my friend x

Reply
author
Shirley Harrison

A longing to fly or to see things up above or indeed down below, so very beautifully written, I jumped out of a plane once in Marlow with a parachute , it was the closest ive ever been to the birds. Gorgeous poetry. 🌹

Reply
author
Marion

Did you?? God how brave!! Sorry for late reply and many many thanks x

Reply
author
Shirley Harrison

Yes I did a solo jump no less, I raised some money for great Ormond street children's hospital. Well worth the thrill. once was enough though. 💜 
 

Reply
author
Lucy Ahleen

Marmalade what a delightful expose on a standard of excellence.  As a child my mother used to toast English muffins and put marmalade all over. Them.  Great piece of 
Writing!
Lucy

Reply
author
Marion

Thanks so much Lucy x

Reply
Poem -

rise

and when it rose, it rose alone
night moved in
became my home

and not a star it...

Poem -

Fresh leaves

he walks fields
where the bones grow
Like ghost trees on land

stark white and risen...

Poem -

the story we wrote

Feels like it's all been for nothing
I hate that you don't get to stay
To think I thought I...

Latest poems in Freestyle

Poem -

Days of change

The days roll in
Like Santa's elves to the toy shop.
They don't stop.

Salivation...

Poem -

Yard work

Yard work

The hot sun beats down,

The grass is extra tall,

The mower full of gas,

Where’s my...

Poem -

JESUS

I CAN'T WAIT FOR JESUS TO RETURN
ALL THE SAINTS ANS WILL BE TOGETHER
JESUS WILL HAVE FINISHED...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com