I baked cookies for her one day,
But then it all got burnt away.
So I brought the cookies out to throw,
But then she snatched them all up to stow.
She took one and nibbled it up.
I grew red like a cherry top.
What must I do to give her a clue?
With love I’m sick, with longing I’m blue.
She smiled at me and held my hand.
I experienced heaven on land.
Then she said to me with tear-stained eyes,
“Such sweet bitterness; I tell no lies!”
This was something I've written for my English class way back during my university days. It makes me realize how the past years have flown by and how old I am despite people here in Manila mistaking me for a teenager. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not? Which is it? LOL. But I digress. When writing poetry, I like to base it on a tinge of reality plus heaps of fiction. This piece is an example of that. I asked a good friend's boyfriend for a romantic gesture he did for my lady pal and he told me about this baking escapade he did for her and voila! The rhymes and verses came flowing like a river bringing this poem to life. What do you think?
ABOUT "SCRIBBLED POETRY"
I make up stories in my head. I'm a dreamer and sometimes perhaps a lunatic. Writing keeps me sane and while I'm no New York Times Best Seller (yet), I'd love to call myself an author. This blog serves as my digital manuscript. I've kept countless poems, stories and whimsical thoughts for years but never got to share them publicly for fear that people would steal them and take the credit. (Which someone already did by the way! If you're planning to do the same then scoot. I can track you down like a bloodhound.) But it would likewise be a pain to keep them for myself. I'd love for people to enjoy them as I did writing them. — Anne Macachor