the writing blog

The tender light kissed the ground   
to unravel a budding little grain.
Soon, your secret unfolds. 
Will you be a daisy? Or a marigold?              
Before the bloom, the fate is cast.               
picked and rearranged, 
sold and offered.

Pink and yellow tulips-
Thank you, dear.

by me

I thought it would be easier to share my writing, but I suddenly feel painfully self-conscious, naked and seen. As if anyone who reads this knows, in a microsecond, my worth (writing-wise).