she's still not over the fact that she is under the ground she speaks in rattly, clattery hissing voices whenever they come around "I'll reach right up and turn your ankles you unforgivable gits, for burying me, prematurely, over a spell of the coughing fits" so angry with her new residence and bored a deeper shade of blue she's knocked over her marble marker and broken it clean in two. Boo! ~ Rene 2010 To join Magpie Tales click HERE For another take on this magpie please check out "The Song Of The Stone Healer"
sweet :)
ReplyDeletewith a stick in hand...
ReplyDeleteand I remember when the daisies
ReplyDeletethat lined the walk to the garage
smiled and laughed as I
fanned them with my youth.
xx
oh yeah.
ReplyDeletei'm back.
This makes me want a picket fence, just so I could play it.
ReplyDeleteVery cute. What a sweet memory. :)
ReplyDeleteVery darling little piece here. Love the use of xylophone. not sure I have ever read that word in a poem before in fact. Clever girl! :)
ReplyDeleteWonderful. I love how your soul speaks on this blog.
ReplyDelete