Something's odd in my world. It's October and I haven't heard Ruth say the word "pumpkin" yet. Here's some incentive Ru - a tiny pumpkin poem.
Piles of pumpkins, heavy, opulent,
orange, rough textured, feminine fruit,
autumnal, mysterious, mutiseeded,
each a canvas for artistry, a potential
face, unique, co-created with the carver.
exciting, waiting, piles of pumpkins
2 comments:
She must be busy indeed!
Sorry! I wil write about (and carve) pumpkins soon!
Thanks for the poem
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