To be exquisite is to be so fine
the word itself seldom used in time
Saved for that rare chance
Or used by happenstance
Something covered in bling
Like a diamond ring
Or fine china so old
That they broke the mold
A dish so delectable
Its memory collectible
Clothing so rare and finely milled
That glass of white wine, perfectly chilled
A glorious sunset at the start of your day
A field of colorful flowers, in wind they gently sway
Exquisite
The word deserves more care
Look for it, it’s there
Everywhere….Just look
January 16, 2017 at 6:11 pm
What an exquisite poem 😀
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January 19, 2017 at 12:59 am
Thanks Cassie!
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