Write your poem — she told me –
not about a snow storm
but rather a snow flake.
That is how she came to me,
not with blizz and bluster,
fizz and fluster, but soft
and Seleney, floaty, flirty,
melt on my shirty,
crystallined, one of a kind.
Archive for cherry
Snowflake
May these words float down gently like cherry blossoms on a warm spring breeze
Just because you can
count to seventeen does not
make you a poet.
