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Counting Colors

Rating: 5.0
I noticed the broken flower pot on the front porch this morning,
One of the few gifts from Charley, more to my liking than sentimental,
Cat, dogs or kids, who broke it, I'll never know,
The mixed emotions I felt were hardly incidental,

We counted the colors on the weeping willow across the street,
There were eight altogether if you counted rust,
I made myself stop to enjoy the little things with the little boys,
The aroma of pancakes clinging as they caught the bus,
I came back in and refilled my coffee cup,
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COMMENTS
Adi Cox 04 July 2009
It was a nice read. It sounds like you have got alot. counting 8 colours, I am colourblind. With this poem you have your composure and you also get ten out of ten from me.
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~ Jon London ~ 04 May 2008
What a remarkable writer you are. With such softness your words caress the reader. The use of such visuals, texture blends this piece into perfection.10/10 best wishes Jon
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Thufail Ahmed 07 July 2007
The way you went about the whole structure of this poem is simply superb. As if someone communicating in poetical phrases.
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Lauren Michaels 17 December 2006
Such a sweet poem. Purely sweet and sweetly pure. I'm glad I could read it. Regards Lauren
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jack russell 11 December 2006
A lovely balanced poem...I love the Collie metaphor :) The joys of observation are underrated! Best wishes :) jack
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