hair like a octopus.
her skin as tangled as rope.
the ice climbed my toes
while the white snow surrounded me
and the blowing wind sounds like
a whisper as I stick out my tongue to taste
a snow flake while the
smell of my next meal fills my nose.
As I drank the eggnog it tasted
like the smell of nail polish
Santa Clause is waiting at the North Pole.
Her skin smooth like a pearl.
The mouse trap killed the rat upstairs.
The word to describe is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
The cat meows and the hat falls.
The old man says “Back in my day…”
The white dove of freedom.
Light from the black room.
Santa Clause died last night.
B is writing this poem.
One day they’ll finish.
The nice blue jay.
I won’t grow up.
Como se amo?
The candle grabbed my hand to burn.
The arms trying to grab my face.
(20 little prompts poem)
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