Fairy-tale-like

I remember those nights when my mother read me fairy tales,

I would fall asleep in clean white sheets,

dreaming dreams

outside, the wind swayed the branches.

Back then, nothing felt as fairy-tale-like

as the morning

that began with pearl-colored

milk.

Reviews

[Lara]

This piece is a painted profile of just how I recall sleep overs at my grandmothers house...
Thank you for sharing, Mari.
The poem (and triggered memory) burst sunbeams in me.

[Mari]

Thank you very much!✨