Shania K. Younce Poems

How many paints do we have?
I shan't know an answer. Why?
Well, we speak, so fine.
Why not paint our-selves, so fine?
...

A top hat.
A man.
A lady in dress.
A lady may have a name, An-tress.
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Bees?
Buzzing!
Bumping?
Bunnies!
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A tear drop came last.
A last tear dropped from Eden.
Eden dropped a tear.
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This vim I fill whose touched loved lingered.
A painted house opening across a sky.
My child laid the night away sleeping tight.
For when laid the babe for sleep I sang.
...