Brooke Hippie Poems

How I miss the way his hand
Would fit perfectly
...

as the sun sleeps
and the moons cycloptic eye
is gazing down
upon me. i look at the sky
...

Drinking tea in the sun, the afternoon sun
In a woven hammock
On a rickety old porch
Where the bittersweet butterflies flap their colorful wings
...

We sit in the yard
And paint strange art on our jeans
...

If the world were a quilt
And I were the sewer
...

I just had to turn out the lights for this one.
...

on a quiet picnic on a pretty quilt on a green green hill with big full trees with long thick branches perfect for climbing under a sun so hot with animal shaped clouds and lets go in a VW bus and we'll wear tie dye shirts and put our feet on the dashboard and sing loud to every song. then we'll build a campfire and play guitar and ill sing my song for you. we'll pitch our tent and climb inside into our checkered red and blue sleeping bags and we'll be barefoot. and our hair will be in our eyes. but we wont care just because.
...

When I step out onto my porch

After the sun has gone down
...

I am
Summer, Sunshine, and Music
I like to be free and play guitar.
Personality, Honesty, and Standing out are important to me.
...