“heaven’s cliché”

Written for:  The Twiglets #215 - "heaven's cliché"

Heavens to Betsy!
The righteous go to heaven.
Betsy is righteous;
Betsy goes to heaven.

rain fell in
silver needles
when the heavens opened.

blackberry juice
runs down her chin–sweet purple
a taste of heaven

         There once was a man who baked his own bread
             Scrumptious varieties it was said.
                He baked rye, whole wheat
                 and yellow bread–sweet.
     Business flourished 'til patron discovered rat's head.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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6 Responses to “heaven’s cliché”

  1. Jules says:

    lovely littles. And well the limerick… ewe… I wonder if it was planted by a rival!
    The limerick also reminds me of a book called “Jacob the Baker’ by MR Noah BenShea
    ,,,”As the ovens are warming and the first dough rising Jacob turns inward, scribbling notes to himself — thoughts and observations ringing with the clarity of a soul unencumbered by “the weight of its own importance.” // One of Jacob’s carefully folded notes is accidentally baked into a loaf of bread….”


  2. Misky says:

    LOL! noooo, not the old head in the bread disguise!


  3. poetrybydebi says:

    All nice but I LOVE “rain fell in
    silver needles”


Comments are closed.