I’ve been saving them in a pot,
the lilac one on the window ledge,
dropping one in, as and when,
a copper stocked history,
of you and
the person I thought I could be.
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I’ve been saving them in a pot,
the lilac one on the window ledge,
dropping one in, as and when,
a copper stocked history,
of you and
the person I thought I could be.
This is an old one. I came across it tonight and just thought… ‘yep’
And then I thought, ‘Oh well, let’s post it then.’
What is 17,628 divided by as and when? Am I missing the point again? haha
This is beautifully suggestive: can we picture that pot? who are you talking to? what’s the history? and not least did you actually count 17,628 pennies … ?!
Lovely … this has me reflecting on the passage of time and the ‘costs’ of love.
Just wonderful … I love how your poems raise questions for me to reflect on.
lovely and sensitive, a thought with the sound of copper pennies
falling into a delicate glass vase. beautiful.
‘copper stocked’
(Bows down to worship such delicious, dolourous sounding words)