Frosting
Quietly it falls
one tiny, delicate flake of iced lace
fluttering like a windblown leaf,
not falling straight
but twisting, circling, swirling,
till at last it settles and rests,
soon followed by another
and another, and still more,
till in time
the whole yard is filled.
A crunchy white fondant
frosting the confection
that I call home.

Comments:
 
kiwigirl   kiwigirl wrote
on 6/5/2010 9:04:12 PM
I am delighted that this piece has been selected for the summer edition of MUSED, the online publication put out by bellaonline.com

kiwigirl   kiwigirl wrote
on 1/4/2010 5:20:20 PM
Thank you....it was the result of a massive snow storm that struck the city where I live in Atlantic Canada a couple of days ago. Incredibly pretty...but makes an incredible mess too!

luckyirish0615   luckyirish0615 wrote
on 1/4/2010 8:30:18 AM
hahaa yes! This is poetry I get! Awesome stuff!

kiwigirl
Poetry
Free Verse
writing kiwigirl
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart
--Helen Keller
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