Raisins

a poem by Linda Bates Terrell, USA

Raisins,
brown, gooey,
sticky, wrinkled,
not to mention,
bland smelling.

Once, before
a grapes,
plump dwelling,

Linda Terrell
April 28,2009

Silly writing of raisins.



Loves Rain
My Collection of Poems 2008 - 2012
Mother! Her wisdom!
Loves Rain
From The Beginning
Mother! Her wisdom!

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