Fresh-cut grass
(Tangy, sharp, a little bit bitter)
Itches along my back as I recline
And stetch my arms up-
Way, way up-
And watch the cloudless sky roll by.
The sun rubs up my arms and face
(The most cheerful cat I have ever known),
Warms me slowly and leaves me that way;
Comfortable.
Then the mower stops its caedence,
And the summer in my brain is paused-
Bugs midair, Eyes midblink-
Until the real one rolls around
Or someone cuts the lawn.
Author notes
I used option 4 from the contest- association of a sound with an emotion, color, or odor. ^^
A contest entry
- Colour My Senses by xxRainbowDawnxx.
900 points, ended April 18, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Mr. Comment Box is always reminded of comments when he hears your fingers hit the keyboard...why not indulge him and write one now?
Comments
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Lovely.
too bad I have hayfever, I could truly enjoy this as much as you do
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Great poem. The weather has been so nice lately that it already feels like summer. And i totally love it.
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Haha. Best commentary for Mr. Comment Box!
Well since I am already indulging, great poem. I actually believed I was sitting in the sun and that it was summer. But then again I don't like the cold. A great read for those who need the warmth.
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