I'm still me, my own senses not deserting through
my fingers, my mind's smiling
It is tempting to counter shifts suddenly in thoughts
but again not blue enough to leave an impact on
my toes still wriggling in unison with bubbles
on my feet
Must be summer magic playing tricks with my
ears in line with emerging thoughts deep in my
belly to mirror a satisfaction
If both my hands are in braids close to my
nose then I know it is time to stop whining
Dylan's at MLMM's First Line Friday
Grace at d'Verse's MTB streams of conscious
MMT's The Whirligig #279
Your summer magic is well, magical! Nice streaming of consciousness.
ReplyDeleteWell, so long as your toes are wriggling in unison, your summer is going well!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful stream of consciousness here. I enjoyed reading it!
ReplyDelete“both my hands are in braids close to my nose”
ReplyDeleteI love that description.
What a fun write Hank!
ReplyDeleteYou had me at "I’m bought and worn, but I ain’t no dupe". You took me effortlessly to stop whining. Superbly done.
ReplyDeleteOne of my fingers Hanks has got arthitis but my toes are fine.
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem Hank thanks for sharing.
Yvonne.
I always like a smiling mind.
ReplyDeleteA playful piece!
ReplyDeleteYes, whining will not help in this circumstance. Covid is not an indulgent mother!!
ReplyDeleteWhining pleases no-one although wine could!
ReplyDelete