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The Icicle

I looked up at the icicles hanging from the garage,

I pull it down,

It starts melting in my hand,

Soon there is a small puddle of ice cold water on my hand,

It shines and shimmers in the morning sun,

It's a very peaceful view,

I drop the icicle and it shatters, shatters into a million peices,

All the peices, though, did not scatter,

But the shape they had changed to was...

My gArDiAn AnGeL, watching over me all the time.

Please tell me what you think

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Comments


  • Svs-lover2012
    July 23, 2007
    Edit | Reply
    Hey Alissa, I really like your poem good write