'Look at me, look at me, I'm perfect for you!'
A top on a rail tries hard to attract me
From the rail to the floor it throws itself
I pause, pick it up, and smooth the thread
But today I don't want any vintage clothing
And I know where it is that I'm going to head
Round this room there are names that are calling me
Sorted alphabetically, in their genres, they shout
Jammed together on the charity shop bookshelf
They're all desperately begging to be let out
©cih15, 22:25, 30.11.15
starcline - less a blog, more a derailed train of thought
About Me
- clinestar
- Part time poet, full time librarian, student of the delights of milk chocolate. Likes books, milk, paddling, poetry, scribbling, chocolate, notebooks, sea, piers. Not necessarily in that order. All work copyright cih.