Hour – 20 Raindrops on my shoulders make me happy. Rain in my eyes can make me cry Rain on the water leaves so lovely. Rain has forever given the joy

Hobbits famously tell of their dietary habits especially mornings most definitely second breakfast Not living in a cozy shire nor having large fairly hairy feet I can still speak to the efficacy of breakfast two For second breakfast simply put is actually fifth coffee or…

We wandered through the fields, stumbled upon the most cottage-core scene ever. A mattress in a field of flowers, but imagine the dampness in the morning. Even worse, imagine all the ticks that would comatose my system. My parents took me for a blood test…

I desire to sue for peace but the war in my head goes on for another hour, or day, or month, or year until my mind has been raised to the ground and devastation is all that is left

to immerse oneself in nature is to embrace all insects and accept that making your bed amongst them is the surest way to invite them into your bed

old ladies keep up with the latest gossip watchtower   Note: This poem is written using a text prompt posted during hour twenty.