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13 presents, 13 years

Writer's picture: Golden InkGolden Ink

Updated: Jul 24, 2020

Dear Readers,


The time has come to share this week's poem with you all! I highly appreciate any feedback or suggestions that you might have for me.


Day Thirty Three's Progress:

Today I wrote the last stanza of the poem. It still needs a lot of work though. I also edited some of the smaller stanzas. For now, I feel like it isn't really a poem, and I need to fix a lot of things before it is completed. I was thinking that maybe I don't even need the last stanza, since there is a feel of an end to it. Here is what I have so far:


13 presents, 13 years


A musical carousel,

Cookies inside,

To remind me of the sweet melodies

my parents sang to me.


A beautiful book,

That encapsulates

My love for all stories.


Handcrafted earrings, with rubies,

My birthstone —

Showing my enjoyment of making crafts.


A hand-painted broach,

Traveled all the way from Russia

Representing all of the traveling

That I will do.


Earrings — pressed flowers inside,

Capturing the beauty

That surrounds me.


Silk Scarf —

Lined houses from Venice

A man singing, on his gondola.


Special markers, to help make

My unique imprint,

Permanent.


An olive green sweatshirt

I know have the knowledge,

I will always be warm.


Soothing lotion to teach me,

Indirectly, about priorities.

Always take care of oneself.


Watercolors,

Photographing memories

With beautiful tones.


A necklace

Om as the pendant,

The powerful vibrations of that word,

Allows me to feel

The Whole Universe.


Even more — metallic watercolors

Gold and silver

Through a different

Form.


A custom sketchbook

To trace my journey,


And colored inks,

To make an influence

With my words.


The last paragraph that I might not include:


Is it one present for every year?

Maybe 13 at once

to make up for each year?

Waking up to sweet smells of waffles,

the smell of fresh fruit.

Setting my sights on each gift.

The greatest gift of all

stands right in front of me,

my two supporting bricks

to this growing house,

holding the bowl of unconditional love,

none other,

than my own two

parents.


I hope you enjoyed it!


~ Golden Ink


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