You moved in on a Tuesday
the same day I decided
freckled boys were the best kind.
I was four and you were six
my method of love was play-dough hearts
-red, pressed clumps-
-printed small palms-
your method was to eat one.
You grew up on a Thursday
the same day I decided
unshaven boys were the best kind.
I was 12 and you were 14
my method of love was heart-shaped cookies
-frosted pink and white-
-the final result, after three times trying-
your method was to use one as a football.
You met her on a Saturday.
the same day I decided
taken boys were the worst kind.
I was broken, you were sure
my method of love was forgotten
-swallowed, shushed, hidden in a corner-
-ignorance was my only shield-
your method never came.
We met again on that Tuesday
the same day I decided
freckled boys were the best kind.
I was here, you were with me
my method of love was my heart
-raw, pounding, beating-
-no frosting or clay to hide under-
your method came in a kiss.
Author notes
prompt:
OPTION 2:
FROSTING
These heart cookies
have pink frosting.
My heart does not,
I hope you still will want it.
A contest entry
- A different kind of contest... by Chocoholic156.
1100 points, ended February 13, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
ahhhh... this was a very refreshing poem! I love the story and the system behind the theme. You took my poem, and definatly made it your own. I love the repeating theme throughout the stanzas, it was very cool. My favorite part was the first stanza, where I made play-dough cookies and he ate one. lol! I really laughed...
You did a really good job with this poem, and I thank you for entering in my contest. -
ooh this was so nice you better win. It gave me warm fuzzies at the end. I love how it's really detailed and there's still room for personal interpretation, and it's so sweet!!
Adding your comment:
