Poetic Voice

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It was really emotional in Poetic Voice class today. One person got pretty angry and two started crying. And when I read my text out loud everyone  was laughting. So here you go, a short poem written in two minutes about my breakfast!

I see the red dots amongst the mountain of white yoghurt.

I see the crust, sweet flavoured.

I see the yellow honey floating like a river on top. All the beauty of a small meal.

I see the raspberries like never before. I notice their shape, their pinkish coulour.

I lift the spoon, the cold spoon up towards my mouth.

The spoon is filled with the sweetnes of the combined things.

The food hits my tongue in an explosion of coulourful flavours. Never did I think I would like breakfast this much.

The berries, sweet and sour mixed with the lovely honey and the contrasting yoghurt and then last the crunch of the granola.

I hear the crunch, I feel the crunch and I taste it and then swallow. 

Slowly it begins it’s journey down my throat to fill me up with joy and life to conquer this day.

I lower the spoon towards the plate. Another sensation of taste awaits me.

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