Winter turns me into a grouch
Keeping words & sweets to myself
I scribble quickly on used paper
As if each letter holds a secret 🔑
The garden outside is a dull statue
As if a thief has stolen all the blooms
As if a baker has thrown all the flour
On table, forgetting measuring cups & left
In a huff, leaving the nuts
to squirrels and nothing for the birds 🐦
Not even his secrets
Was it fresh cinnamon stick or extra lemon
Zest & twist
That made these sweets tinglinG butterY
Warm on my hands...
Melting snowflakes, drawing 😁 😉 😤 😍 💗 💋
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by Amaya on the theme of Secret Ingredient (examples are food or poetry form). Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.
