Salted Stars

If all the stars were made of paint,
I'd brush them ever keenly,

and if the sun was made of wax,
I'd write my name there clearly.

But if all the stars were made of salt,
I'd lick them, ever dreary;

too bad the sun's not  made of wax;
I miss her all too dearly.

She said she'd write and lick the stars,
in her letter, but in theory-

the salted, painted, waxy stars,
are really all too eerie.

Β© copyright Eve Redwater 2011


10 thoughts on “Salted Stars

  1. I loved the rhythmic flow of this poem, rather than change the rhyming word each stanza interlaced with the next, nice write. I’d never thought of the stars as salt, tasty (grin)

  2. Now why did I think pretzels when reading that?

    God stood with her hands on hips
    sugar, flour, milk and raisins mixed
    stir and swirled in her mixing bowl
    the universe, a pretzel, lo behold!

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