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Buttercup
This morning there’s blankness in my mind,
which is quite unusual for me to find.
The creative process has all but dried up,
but then I thought of a buttercup.
A buttercup comes to mind with a golden glow,
as though kissed by sunlight for a special show.
As children we placed a buttercup under our chin
and were amazed by its reflection onto our skin.
It was said that if a bright yellow glow was seen,
you preferred butter on your bread to margarine.
A child’s way of passing a warm summer’s day,
as you sat on the grass letting time slip away.
poem
by
Orlando Belo
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