#Haiku Horizons, Full

Ego, inflated

spewing false truths, toxic black

Full of himself, Slick.

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Flabby stomach hurts
Pangs of sugar induced pain
Full of sweets I love.
English: Sweets from Argentina.
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Drape my arm, full moon
Sleeping there soothes my love’s pain.
 Watching over her.

What Flavor Would I Be?

Strawberry ice cream dessert

The First Summer Night

Strawberry.

I would be a base of vanilla ice cream with sweet chunks of strawberries swirled all around me. The effect would not be “neon pink” you see in some ice cream store chains. No. Nothing but sweet cream and vanilla and sun-ripened strawberries ready to be made into an evening’s sweet ending.

Imagine an old farm house, with a rectangular wooden table, sitting in a country kitchen; a jug of wildflowers, purple and orange, bend quietly from the soft breeze, like dancers, in a slow, dance. Outside, the moon is bright, glowing, children chase fireflies, mom and dad sit on old, comfy porch chairs with flowered cushions, waiting for the right moment to call the kids inside. It’s “TIME” to race in and knock into each other laughing to get through the kitchen door. The family surrounds the table eager to dip their assorted teaspoons into freshly made, first of the season, home-made strawberry ice-cream. The full moon shines down on them from way high in the sky, gives a little smile and winks.

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