Foiled Getaway

I don’t know if it’s allowed, but I have another Fifty:

She lies there, sprawled out,
limbs akimbo.
I lift my head to sneak
a peek;
Move slowly, try not
to disturb
the ebb and flow
of her dreaming.
She turns her head:
“I want more story, Mom.
Please come back to bed.”
Sigh, turn back.
So much for my scheming. Copyright © 2012 Copyright © 2012


27 thoughts on “Foiled Getaway

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  3. Wow…did you say in an earlier post that you write bad poetry? really lady? this is wonderful! if you don’t quit it with the self-loathing I will go out to AZ and shake some sense into you. 🙂 jk. Fantastic post


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Lay it on me.

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