Sandwiches
The matriarch asks from where these tiny sandwiches come hence?
From the magic market I reply wishing they only but a pence.
Boredom and routine broken by such a simple thing.
Wondering what surprise next I might can bring?
But for a moment the weekly rut broken.
Now must take time for a conversation spoken.
Every day is a gift I must not dismiss.
When gone no other will I more miss.
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Comments3
A golden piece of advice given when hidden in a type of nursery rhyme thereby making it a fable. A lovely write
Thank you. A break from
The somber world yet true nonetheless.
We never know what we truly value until it or they have gone. Good one.
Thank you
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