Come and I will take you on a journey with words. Along the way, we will see tigers and morning glories. We will walk the flowered forests of Arkansas and skim the shimmering seas of never-never land . . . for I am a poet.
As we walk through fields of morning glories dressed in shades of sky blue, be careful always to watch out for tigers. Though their many stripes are splendid, and their breath is warm as fresh cow’s milk, their paws hold deadly claws. Yet their touch is that of kittens . . . for I am a poet. (From my chapbook, Tigers and Morning Glories . . . a journey into poetry . . . )
© 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols