I've made my Doll's House in
The forest.
With a broken mind, I've gathered
Dry leaves,
To sail on the wave crest.
I've remembered you with a thankful
Heart
As always, you are very
compassionate.
Every morning, I prepare a string
Of flowers
My doll calls me outside to play
With Her.
With broken twigs, I prepare her bed.
The shoreless, humid heart thus has
No leisure.
When the ferryman rows his boat
In the indolent noon of
Summer.
I wait here and pick up pebbles
As fees
To be ferried over.
I see you play your dulcet flute,
Sitting beside the house
Of flower.
At the end of day, I follow my
Torch Bearer.
©kdee14/Doll's House
This poem has been awarded as Honourable Mention in a group poetry contest in All Poetry, the largest worldwide online poetry community, published from Las Vegas, America. Check All Poetrty.Com/Kdee 14
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