jr poems...

Today I have written 2 poems-they may not look like poems when you read it, but they are-for you... and  I TOTALLY made them up... by hand... at a writing workshop I did the summer before I moved;

Music

This is an adventure without even moving.

But,

If you were to move,

 It would be in a slow, bumpy formation, 

As if you were in a boat with medium sized waves,

That gradually become weaker,

And slowly turn into nothing.

Of this adventure,

All you taste,

is very sour,

Sour cream,

And all you smell,

Is spicy cinnamon,

This is an adventure,

But you know it as...

The Blues

and 

Jazz...

I Celebrate My...

I celebrate,

My tongue, a detective telling my brain what tastes good and bad.

My elbow, a paper, folding and unfolding my arm.

My nose, a sensor that can smell out everything.

My eyelids, a curtain, opening and closing throughout the day.

My mouth, an engine, beating all the time.

My hair, a hat that keeps my head warm.

My legs, two canes helping my body stand straight.

I celebrate,

My heart, a drum, beating every second...