poetry friday

an orange tree in sicilyA Sometimes Wish
by Mildred D. Shacklett

I wish I knew the magic word
To change myself into a bird,
I’d fly to places far away
Where summer stays the whole year round
And juicy oranges are found
And children on the beaches play —
whelk-seashells-Sanibel-beach from iloveshelling dot comWhere red poinsettias wave in the breeze
And long, gray moss hangs draped from trees,
Where there’s no snow but shells instead;
But long before the day should wane
I’d wish to fly back home again
And creep into my own small bed!