POEMORAMA AT PAPER POETRY
Sundays
From Diary of an Autoimmune
Sundays are like that hot, molten chocolate tickling out of the lava cake.
That softly boiled potato mashed and rounded with a dash of salt and mustard. Blissfully supple and rousingly satisfying.
Cutting through ‘Saturday at last!’, snailing towards ‘Nah! it’s Monday again’ Sunday is that inviting ham ’n’ cheese a hungry boy in the beach, digs his teeth into, after a long, salty swim.
Sunday is a relaxed cup of tea with Adda
It’s filling your olfactory senses with that heavenly aroma of Mutton_Curry
Sunday is siesta after a hectic ’I need my sleep!!’ week.
……..And for someone like me, for whom a Monday is a ‘better Sunday’ for good part of the week now, those Sundays, are like — Caviar.
— (My Diary Noting,2016)
Poetic Form: Prose Poetry (Part I)
Here’s tagging Kimberly Hampton Nilsson for her twittle dogs-in-red-collar.
American Cinquain by Carolyn Hastings healing-hand-be-healed
And, William J Spirdione a-chickadee-choir
Thank you Team Paper Poetry Carolyn Hastings Suntonu Bhadra Indubala Kachhawa for this wonderful poetry fest.
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