She’s wearing the daisy broach,
at the top of her lungs to fan’s buzzing.
My tiny sticky fingers long to poke
gingerbread men in the eye,
smother in spicy
pepper, cream, honey,
Another one written for Quickly’s double prompt.
Oh, my grandmother had so many broaches. I have a bag of her old jewelry which I let my little one look at and it’s amazing how many pins she had.
What a great capture of a memory !
Love this, De…your objects used are so vivid…especially the broach…those are cool little items aren’t they. Nice memory infused poem… 🙂
Yummmmmm!! Those gran’s love to hum and sing, don’t they? 🙂