I ride my bicycle.
Cherry popsicle in hand, I flow
Through the daisy field
To the river where my lover
Likes to go.
My lips, cold as Winter
kiss the cheeks of
Summer’s air.
I’m like the spirit
of Spring, and a gazelle
galloping without a care.
I see my lover waiting for me.
Oh the smile I see
as he spots his pretty lady.
He swears he can’t handle me.
I’m like sweet watermelon,
juice dripping,
messing his yellow shirt.
Lips red, sweet like cherries and
cool as the late afternoon breeze,
I see he wants a little taste
But I, I can’t help but tease. No I can’t.
And there I run to the river and swim!
Vinolia, an aspiring poet and writer. A young South African female coming to love herself whilst chasing her dreams nestled in the world of creative writing; an art that’s changed her for the better.