Creative Clogs

These are my creative shoes.
You wonder what they're for?
Their soulful soles inspire me,
They help me write and draw.

But now my feet grow weary,
They're tired and they're hot.
I've slipped off my creative shoes,
So this is all . . .

poem © Celia Warren 2014

I've spent nearly all day gardening and nothing's made me jump today. I collected quite a pile of snails and sat them on the low wall at the edge of the front garden. A few minutes later, they'd all hidden themselves away, shells an' all. (I can't kill them; they're good thrush-fodder.)