#WritcoPoemPrompt25
She toils through the day,
Without a word or a nay,
She earns her daily bread,
Not a tear does she shed...

That kind is beneath
our surface soil.
Spoils are abundant
self egos triumphant.

Still daisies dance and flow.
Hearts pound at fear and bleat.

Remove the word, or switch definition.
Change a cheek, a bitten lip, indignation.

Dido ego love, repeat, sway grey dove.
Play a harp changing hand.

Flatters the eyes sofly sincere
lullabying the wonderers binding.

"Are they there yet?"

"No. They're not even flying!"

Look at the dial. Ask the son,

"We'll, what's our timing?".

© TwoRoadsHome