Poem -

My winklepicker shoes

My winklepicker shoes

What does a poet actually look like ? yes I understand what he or she does do.. but I am so flabbergasted when I get called a poet from the last recent years or two.. you see I have this image in my head whenever I get called this word with me stood back in bygone days with cloak and quill with hood, I find it so absurd

I am standing in my breeches that are halfway up my legs with black tights and winklepicker shoes on my long skinny pegs.. posing for a portrait with an artist in my sight as he asks me to tilt my head to one side so he can catch me in the light.. haha so this is what enters my mind when I hear people call me a poet.. I feel like laughing at them long and loud tho I’m not allowed to show it.. but please don’t misunderstand me, I do appreciate the compliment..it’s just I didn’t expect so much appraisal from my pleasurable passtime that’s heaven-sent

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