Poem -
Cold old bones 💙
I shiver and quiver like rolling rapid rivers
Meandering down mountainsides, mustering might it delivers
When one is getting older the cold is a mould, that penetrates the pores like pure carat gold
Chilling the very bones on my worn out body, needing hot water bottles with a stiff hot toddy
That rain is a pain when it sleets and snows, I will hibernate like a hedgehog until it melts and goes
I dread the wintertime when the frost turns to ice, stabbing my skeleton like a carpenters vice
Yet I frolic in fun with that old currant bun, soothing my senses amidst the sizzling sun…
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Comments
Good Morning Jill 💗 this is my first read of the day, and a fab start! wow so much imagery painted for the readers imagination. Utter delight my friend 😊 Now I need a cosy hot drink ☕️ xx
Awwww Thanks Hunnybun 💕💕💕
wonderful poem
as always
GOOD MORNING!!!!!!
💕💕💕
Hello JILL!!.....I too believe I must now endeavor to pour a warm libation for myself....this is filled to the brim with stirring imagery dear poet sister.....Interestingly enough, only moments ago, I just posted a poem called "THESE BONES"....what's that they say? ~ 'great minds think alike?"...smiles....ALL STARS & PINNED!!....ever the pleasure!!......LOVE & ROCKETS!!......T xo : )
❤️💕❤️Thanks Tony 🌹
Wow, I really felt the cold while reading this little delight. Great work! Love it x
Thank you ❤️💕❤️
🥶🥶🥶🥶
its stating to get a bit chilly up here isnt it??
Really great poem, love the imagery
Absolutely love this line
Lorna x
Awwww Thanks Hunnybun 💕💕💕