If you take a porous pumice stone
And hold it under water
At bath time,
You will notice tiny bubbles squiddling up to the surface.
When you lift it from its aqueous submergence,
You can hear little drips and drops,
And thread-thin streams of water
Twisting through the craters and crevasses inside the humble hand-held stone.
In slow succession,
Each drop of water patiently exits the bottom of the stone,
Pulled by gravity and belonging
To the liquid mother-store.
~~~
❤👽
~~~
*** I smell a recent tryst with a thesaurus, Buttercup…. ***
*** And it was a sopping wet affair…. ***
What I like best about pumice is it’s sojourn from red hot lava, to the froth that boils to the top of the cauldron, to an eruption that finds it’s way into your bath.
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Love that 😊😊😊
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squiddling 😀
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It just felt right. I know it might not be an actual word but… who says we can’t make up words? If fetal millennials can, so can I!!!!
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Squiddling! 💕 lol I like that…
But honestly. I love this poem. Like… love it.
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Thank you,Tara. Inspired by bath time… and a piece of pumice stone. Lol
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