Balsamic bliss blossoms on the tongue, and other sensations. Continue reading
I like poetry. And I often write little bits of verse when occupying waiting areas or driving from place to place as moms are wont to do. I haven’t done it as frequently of late as I would like, but when I shine up a bit of meter and rhyme I think I will just start putting them here.
This poem, as the title may have indicated, is not cheery or funny. It is an expression of something that has accompanied my life more than I can say over the last seven years. No fanfare or introduction need for: Anxiety