Poem: Ink Bottle.
Ink Bottle.
.
.
It was a beautiful shade of blue
Actually neither blue nor green,
A sort of iridescent sea colour
With a large dash of peacock’s tail.
Just a bottle of ink you might say
But I am mesmerised by it,
It is beautiful in the extreme,
Sitting in the palm of my hand,
Dregs of rusty dried up ink
Still visible, gathered at the bottom.
.
.
