She noticed the line between B and D
on the worn out stone in that photograph
and thought, what could that line possibly mean?
When she leaves here, she’ll paint an autograph
of all her thoughts, moments and poetry
signed, sealed, delivered with a smile and laugh.
Walking through time, her quest to history
where she wrote letters on a Wiltshire hill
pondering the worlds greatest mysteries.
Lie with her in fields of daffodils
as she gazes into Albion’s windows
from the grassy bench of Salisbury’s windmills.
Or find her dancing sunshine and rainbows
as she encounters New York Down Under
April Twenty Fourteen was quite a show
just like lightening in a storm of thunder.
Her line tastes like chai latte on Mondays
a blissful moment her heart could plunder
From point B, the line is a disarray
of wibbly-wobbly moments
just waiting to be played.
Prompt: All the 29 poems I’ve written this NaPoWriMo 2014.