Written for: The Twiglets #285 - uneven time
He likes to eat dinner at six–
says it's an even time.
The horse ran
at an uneven pace
He lost the race.
tugs at her braids
sitting in the classroom
mom never gets them even
Said the little girl, this is unfair,
the sun in my eyes caused a glare.
Her teammate said, too bad,
you really should have had
sunglasses on like me. I was prepared.
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.
Nicely done poem. I especially like the limerick at the end.
Charming poem….I like the Mum not getting the braids even.