Contentment is warm.
It sounds like a gurgling baby.
It smells like a fire in the hearth.
It tastes like mince pie after Thanksgiving dinner.
Contentment feels like being wrapped by a blanket in and easy chair.
What is that?!! I just had to write a poem to make fun it. Here is my poem.
Chairs are intriguing,
They feel like slime on your fingers,
They taste like over- cooked asparagus,
Always friendly, they never bite,
But instead are quite friendly and conversational,
They smell like apple that is fresh out of the oven,
Oh, how I love bedposts.
They said to use all of your senses. Am I supposed to lick the chair???
This year, we are kinda taking a Spring Break. We are doing some school so that while Mom and Dad are on the cruise, we won't have to do much school.
3 comments:
Actually, Mallory wrote a great poen the other day about a shepherd and his sheep! Maybe I should post that one to counter her goofy one!
K
Your poems made me smile!!!! Love, Aunt Julie
I like to lick my chairs and bedposts too!
Jo
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