A “What Am I?” Poem

Random words are tumbling out of my mouth, so I made them into a poem:

Fluff o’ the countryside

gently float,

like puffs of dandy, will o’ wisp — smoke.

The wind might carry them down the hill,

where they shall land

where they will,

and blossom into another life –

in a burst of yellow,

fanfare and Fife.

©by Sharry

I stand in defiance of anyone who dares to say this isn’t any good! 😛 Gold falls out of my mouth… Seriously, just joking people.


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