Baby’s Eating Ink Again
Baby’s eating ink again –
a writer’s born every day –
Me? I’m nibbling paper,
with nothing much to say
She’s spitting words and polka dots,
dangling metaphors on air,
while all the while, I’m watching,
hoping, without a word to spare
She drifts asleep, as dreamers do,
to draft a skein of tale,
and all I do is wander her,
ponder poems inside this shell
I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing.
Fun title – wonderful poem!
Great verbs and voice — perfect form for the play in this poem. Lots of truth too.
If I were to copy and paste my favorite lines it would be the entire poem– love the unique take, pairing of words like: eating ink and spitting words and polka dots.
Great fun and truth!