I come from a family of poets.
It is in my blood.
And, yet, the art of poetry eludes me.
My father and all of my siblings are published poets,
and I, well, I blog.
So, I was really shocked today when Baby Girl shared this poem with me:
by Zoe Webster
The blossoming flowers
pop and bang across the silent meadows
like fireworks in the night sky.
The once frozen ground is slowly revived
by these light giving wonders.
The yellow, the pink, the blue blind
my winter adjusted eyes and enlighten my darkened mind.
The war is over,
the light has won
when I see the blossoming flowers.
Beautiful! Simply beautiful!
She may just have more Skov-Nielsen in her than I thought!
Great job, Baby Girl!