Abstract poetry

As I take my first sip the smell of fresh-baked cookies on Christmas morning fills the air. Suddenly, I was tossed back into my mother’s lap while she wraps her arms around me like a blanket. The hot steam flying from the cup eager to hug the clouds and become one. The waves of this black ocean drowning the noise in the air with each hit, it reaches into my mind and settles there, gently drawing my thoughts, leaving my mind with nothing but the sound of the wind kissing the ocean water. 

 

Leen Saleh
You can know me through my writing:)