Agatha

With her first touch,
The ashes turned gold,
The birds started chirping,
A story foretold,

As she leaned back,
To tangle her hair,
The sun leaned in,
And kissed her face,

The grace of her smile,
Made the flowers shy,
The trees waited for her visits,
And hated her goodbye,

The dogs in park,
Wagged their tail left and right,
When she ran past them,
By the lake side,

As she reached home,
Checking post for letters,
The world brighted up,
And got a little better.

Reviews

[Kaye]

This is so wonderful, such a delightful read.

[Kim S.]

This is a wonderful write

[Chris Shaw]

Nicely conveyed stanzas about Agatha who appears to have the Midas touch. She can uplift the mood, turn it golden. I enjoyed the soft rhyme.

Chris