my noun poem

Growing

Noun Poem by Zachary Mashaal

Underneath the wet and damp soil

The slimy earthworm twists and turns

Burrowing itself deeper in the earth.

The large green tree with a thick, round trunk

With beautiful, juicy ripe fruit dangling from its braches

The skins are the colours of autumn with deep crimsons,

Crisp golden and drab olives.

In the distance were crops with corn silks blowing in the wind

The smell of pungent, green chillies lingered in the air.

A curious, grey piglet snorting through the fields looking for a meal,

Rooted through the corn.

Further away, a young girl is heard singing

Strolling through the snow covered mountains

She and her big, scruffy, gold dog.

An old tattered Greek coin and a six sided die in her pocket

She and her faithful companion climbed

To the top of the rocky trails of the high mountains.

She ascended so high

The only thing between her and the sky

Were fluffy white mashed potatoes.