| |
|
After celebrating my 61st birthday at Dollywood's Splash Country
Shortly after noon
I began to fret.
By 4 PM I was a toddler
Clinging around the ankles
Of the day, begging her not to go.
Day inched toward the exit anyway,
Dragging me along, whimpering,
Until finally
She slipped from my grasp
And left.
A parent would come back.
This day will not.
© by Margaret Love.
Used with the author's permission.
|
.JPG)
Margo Love worked for 25 years managing projects and project managers in information technology for the life insurance and utility industries. Now retired, Margo and her husband live in Travelers Rest, South Carolina, where she enjoys sitting on her front porch with a cup of coffee, praising God for the life she has been given and, occasionally, breaking out in a poem.
|
|
Wilda Morris:
Well-done!
Posted 04/21/2024 08:23 AM
|
Jancan:
Descriptive, appealing piece
Posted 04/20/2024 10:40 PM
|
Lori Levy:
Great personification!
Posted 04/20/2024 01:23 PM
|
peggy.turnbull:
Yes, this poem neatly encapsulates the feeling of a good day. Now I want to read more by Margo Love.
Posted 04/20/2024 09:55 AM
|
NormaB:
I do love the image of clinging around the ankles of the day!
Posted 04/20/2024 09:32 AM
|
Larry Schug:
Indeed!
Posted 04/20/2024 07:58 AM
|
|
|
|
My Cart 
