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#WritcoPoemPrompt43
Write a poem on how to do something mundane most people take for granted, such as how to tie your shoes, how to turn on a lamp, how to pour a cup of coffee.
It's warm outside,yet a cool breeze hits my face as I run along the tarmac,yellow petals brush my running shoes as I continue, feeling refreshed and energized I trip and fall ,I do not get up.My eyes glue to the clear sky,so peaceful and therapeutic.I sit up to tie my shoelaces so I would not fall again,I rise to ran before my timer stops.Opening the door to my cabin as soon as I got there and the smell of cinnamon and old books hit my nostrils as I sigh with prolonged pleasure. I long for hot coffee even though it wasn't cold,I love the sound coffee makes as I pour it in my mug,I love the smell of it when it's hot,I like it hot because it's satisfying.Grabbing my coffee,I head to my room,I should really cut some trees outside because it makes my room dark.My face lights up when I see my lantern,I alone knows the feeling I get when I light it at midnight,when I strew rose petals all over my bed,when I pour myself wine and spread cherries all over the covers,when I bury myself in the warm sheets,all this in preparation to read my novel and fantasize about all those fictional characters that make me believe in love again.This makes it the little home in my heart.
© ink_therapist
Write a poem on how to do something mundane most people take for granted, such as how to tie your shoes, how to turn on a lamp, how to pour a cup of coffee.
It's warm outside,yet a cool breeze hits my face as I run along the tarmac,yellow petals brush my running shoes as I continue, feeling refreshed and energized I trip and fall ,I do not get up.My eyes glue to the clear sky,so peaceful and therapeutic.I sit up to tie my shoelaces so I would not fall again,I rise to ran before my timer stops.Opening the door to my cabin as soon as I got there and the smell of cinnamon and old books hit my nostrils as I sigh with prolonged pleasure. I long for hot coffee even though it wasn't cold,I love the sound coffee makes as I pour it in my mug,I love the smell of it when it's hot,I like it hot because it's satisfying.Grabbing my coffee,I head to my room,I should really cut some trees outside because it makes my room dark.My face lights up when I see my lantern,I alone knows the feeling I get when I light it at midnight,when I strew rose petals all over my bed,when I pour myself wine and spread cherries all over the covers,when I bury myself in the warm sheets,all this in preparation to read my novel and fantasize about all those fictional characters that make me believe in love again.This makes it the little home in my heart.
© ink_therapist
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