We wobble through the woods, conceal crayons
in the nooks of old trees or in bushes
so that Andrew can amble there, find one,
and exaggerate joy when he gets them.
His bedroom’s full of thousands of crayons
(so we inch them out into these wood-walks)
creating a constant new colour;
like blue, black or green, maybe yellow
and we reckon we’re conning the rascal
with a weaving of colours in the country
but I know that he clocks every action,
peeking sideways, pretending they’re new.
Why would he support such reprocessing?
Why? Returning fine splurges - delight.
Nice comfortable read. I can see boxes labelled 64 Crayolas scattered about and Andrew knows just where they are...
ReplyDeleteStephen oh Stephen
ReplyDeleteThis ,your therapist will get a chuckle out of all I copied ,ha ha
You Keep on pushing that mind of yours
one day sweetie ,you will be rich and famous ,you will be remembered !!
just think sweetie ,you be able to afford ,your new love ,without mommy ,supporting you both ,
Or just maybe ,your mommy could high your new love as her new maid ,and she will fit right in with all that are care takers of her yard
you little devil you ,this fame in creation is so rewarding and touching ,How you spend wasting Time to create such Rewarding Fame for me ,Wow!! you are amazing man ,now writing a novel ,how do you find the time
have a nice life aaron,anwii,awniii40,Rob,calkid,oh silly me ,I forget ,you have many user names and male or female ,just so convincing ,you make all look like pretty little Idiots
isn't life perfect ,I think so
today is great ,you look so stupid aaron ,as you just don't hold the facts about nothing smiling
Get a Divorce sheeshh