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High above a gentle treat.
Maybe when they both sleep.
I'll find a way to sneak.
Moms kitchen - another peek.
High above a morsel odor.
Me below, just like Dover.
Now's my chance so sublime.
Left alone, a minute all mine.
Chair with looks, mighty far.
A cookie from the holy jar.
Still warm from the bake.
Hands full, crime of the take.

from my poem book - DREAMS



------
SCRATCHES ON THE PAGE,
MAKING NOISE


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The following comments are for "ONE COOKIE"
by poewhit

A Higher Treat
We stick our hands
in the holy jar
for the cookies from afar

( Posted by: awhippingflame [Member] On: January 16, 2017 )





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