Counting Colors

Poem By Vallerie Lobell

I noticed the broken flower pot on the front porch this morning,
One of the few gifts from Charley, more to my liking than sentimental,
Cat, dogs or kids, who broke it, I'll never know,
The mixed emotions I felt were hardly incidental,

We counted the colors on the weeping willow across the street,
There were eight altogether if you counted rust,
I made myself stop to enjoy the little things with the little boys,
The aroma of pancakes clinging as they caught the bus,

I came back in and refilled my coffee cup,
My mind still roaming in all directions,
I could have used a Border Collie or any herding breed,
To round up straying thoughts and make corrections,

Broken pots, colored leaves, pancakes and school buses,
Are the here and now for me although I thought all this was passed,
And the cats, dogs, kids, and weeping willows,
Make me happy with what little I have,

Comments about Counting Colors

It was a nice read. It sounds like you have got alot. counting 8 colours, I am colourblind. With this poem you have your composure and you also get ten out of ten from me.
What a remarkable writer you are. With such softness your words caress the reader. The use of such visuals, texture blends this piece into perfection.10/10 best wishes Jon
The way you went about the whole structure of this poem is simply superb. As if someone communicating in poetical phrases.
Such a sweet poem. Purely sweet and sweetly pure. I'm glad I could read it. Regards Lauren
A lovely balanced poem...I love the Collie metaphor :) The joys of observation are underrated! Best wishes :) jack

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