Words
Words are like flowers.
Some are sweet,
Like honey and ripe watermelon;
Some are sour,
Like a lime making you scrunch your face.
Some are bitter,
Repulsive and rotten.
But when you put it all together it fits right,
Feels right.
Morning
The sun like a flame in the sky,
Is hugging the clouds.
The flowers are fresh with dew,
After the early rain.
The life has awakened
And the moon has fallen back to sleep,
Taking the night’s alive silence with it.
The birds chirp their sing-son,
And many swiftly fly across the bright sky
The sky is pink and orange,
Blanketing everything, like pollen does a field.
The wind teases the leaves on the trees.
The morning, the new beginning, is just
The start of the opportunities of the coming day.