Poetry?

A Moving Ditty
Copyright © Kimberly Andrew, 9/5/2005

Boxes, boxes -- they never end.
Wrap and tape and flaps to bend.
Inside out and outside in.
I think my Yang has turned to Yin.

No time to relax at the moment for us.
For now we must pack and try not to cuss.
At night we crash into our bed.
While visions of boxes dance through our head.

Oregon -- we'll soon be there.
Where kites will fly in weather fair.
Bread will rise and cookies bake.
Walks on the beach I plan to take.

My honey and I will together be.
Enjoying the sites there are to see.
We'll relax and enjoy the ocean breeze.
Grow rhodes and roses and maybe some peas.

Perhaps come October I'll come back to stay.
In the chatter and clatter of everyone's day.
But now I must run, for the day moves along.
At least in my heart, there sings a glad song.

Copyright © Kimberly Andrew, 9/5/2005