Musings of Sherin

Discover your untapped potential and become the hero of your own narrative – where every day is an opportunity for a new, epic adventure.

Wind took me, many places

A gentle tour, that afternoon

Under the swing

I kissed a pair of tiny shoes.

Over the speeding tricycles

I stood over a pink hair bow.

The giggles left for the day

With a spoil sport, ill mannered bell.

I was now alone

Nearly desolate,

In the sinfully silent play area

Ignored by a misplaced sipper

I, a golden candy wrapper.

The lady to sweep,

Arrives tomorrow morning

I cannot sleep

To where will I escape in hiding?

The broom’s coarse pitch,like the headmistress

Trying to clean the play area, landing me in distress.

Will I be on my last journey to become ashes

Or will some tender fingers find me, pick me up

Craft me into a butterfly, to safely stash.

May be an image of child