The Invisible collection of imaginable recollections

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The Invisible collection of imaginable recollections

By Sadie Archibald

When I bite into a peach I think of the sky

When the suns going down, and the colours all fly

Orange is unleashed, in streaks of juice

Creamy pink mystifies into shades quite loose

When I smell a flower, I think of my pillow

Its soft fabrics woven with that of its willow

the nectar, the stuffing, its petal ,its cover

The doona opening up like a flower in summer

When I see the ocean I think of my tears

Salty and cold they drip down my ears

Some come in waves, others in drops

Some of them ending up bruising the rocks

When my feet tread on sand I think of everlasting

Walking through days of desert, the incessant fasting

The sandtimers turning, the infinite grains

Boundless metres of wide ,open plains

When I open the door, I open my book

Turning of new pages, beginnings and looks

New adventures to see and people to discover

Closing the pages of one book then opening another.

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 23, 2016 ⏰

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