Talking to the white tiled wall
And the bathwater
My morning custom.
Black toe prints
Printed onto the bath,
And, later, the white bathmat.
Slowly turning, swirling water
About
Amid my banter with
The bathwater.
Which I will leave dirty
Filled up by imaginings.
White clouds float upon
The greying water, black clouds
On my legs. From
Sunlight speckled on the bath,
On my brow
Warming.
Like the thoughts,
My morning custom,
That I share
With the bath and bathwater.
Author notes
This poem didn't turn out the way I expected it to, but I am still pleased with it!!! All comments are apreciated!!!!
Written September 3rd, 2006
A contest entry
- Need A Title. ..Take A Title! Just like the penny tray! by immortal-rose.
375 points, ended September 7, 2006, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
Thank you for the kind comment!!! And for taking the time to read my work!!! Hope you have funny judging the contest!!!!
x Charlie x -
Isnt it wonderful when poems have a mind and a plan of their own. hee hee.
truly is nice
i love how you cut the stanza's up.
and the whiteness/cleaniness contrast with the black/dirtyness.
Thank you for your wonderful entry.
~Amber~
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