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Another heat-of-the-moment poem at the office

 The water trickling in my chin almost tickles me

Damp, damp weather

And the silence of the murmurs

Of the once roaring sky, invites me

To look up, and sigh, and behold I fly

To the highest heavens,

To the farthest star,

And look down, again, to the fountain below

And let the water trickling down my chin

Tickle me at last.

 

Reviews

[Dianna Reneé]

I really like this poem. It flows very well. You can almost feel the water trickling down your chin and tickling you as you read the poem. The imagery is great. Well done!