Joy harvest

Some tiptoe through tulips.
But I’ll dance on my roof.
Even though some might say,
That I’m more than uncouth.
Those weeds are my daisys.
The antenna my date.
Though I have to admit,
He’s not much of a mate.
Still there’s joy to be found,
Waltzing near a blue sky.
With crops growing in gutters,
I’ve found a natural high.


2 thoughts on “Joy harvest

  1. Jackie, I haven’t visited for quite a while, but now that Ted is in a care facility I should have more time. And what a treat to read your joyous and optimistic poetry!
    One person’s weeds are another person’s bouquet…

    • Thanks Bonnie! I hope the transition continues to go well for Ted. And of course for you and your family as well. I will definitely be thinking good thoughts in the days ahead.

      Sent from my iPad


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