Wordle #151


Platters of cotton

Parade over my tongue,

Clouds baked

To the consistency

Of meringue.

I catch celebratory stars

In old jelly jars,

Leaves in the skirt

Of a threadbare dress.

Dreams trip through

A college-ruled notebook

Cramped are the rows

Of parenthetical impression.

There’s never enough time

For paradise and though free

I miss most what I have never seen.


Not too pleased with this one reminds me of something I would have written as a child when I first began