My brother, Alan; his wife, Nancy; and their son, David were coming to visit. It was a very cold evening and we had a good fire going. As soon as they arrived, three-year-old David, bundled up in cold weather gear, strode up to the fireplace and said, “Fire. Hot. Burn. Cry.”
I don’t know if my nephew David ever composed another poem, but I do like that one. It is clear and concise. Inspired by it, I offer the following in the same “David” format of noun, adjective, verb, verb:
Sandy
Studio
Quiet
Reflect
Remember
Sandy
Beautiful
Look
Listen
Face
Fair
Watch
Want
Ages
Different
Hesitate
Capitulate
Pursuit
Exciting
Woo
Win
Years
Many
Look
Listen
© Richard Gilbert 2011
0 comments:
Post a Comment