Tomorrow I’ll write my bucket list 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow I’ll write my bucket list. 

I’ll fill it with love and hope and pleasures divine,

and snippets of dreams that are mine all mine. 

I’ll wander on shores of burning sands

explore new and undefined lands. 

I’ll bravely declare the dreams in my heart,

The secrets I whisper alone in the dark.

Visions of barges, campervans and beetles,

painted creatively with life as my easel. 

Petals to touch, flowers to smell, leaves to feel,

Memories to make, to make so very real.

They’ll be odd socks, purple shoes and bare feet,

thousands of wishes that truly define me. 

And songs of the past played live on a beach,

and listening to you play, whilst im upon my knees.

I’ll fill my list with glorious scents from the jasmine star petals

to candy floss swirling in a bowl made of metal. 

I want to see owls, peacocks and tiny white goats,

I want to see ponds where lily pads float. 

I want to watch nature roar angry and sore

I want to walk through all the locked doors. 

Tomorrow I’ll write my bucket list,

Fill it with dreams and things that I wish,

and there at the top I’ll scribble your kiss.
Karen Hayward ©2016

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