The Day I Fell In Love With My Pocket — Creative Poetry

Hello, lovely ones! Today I’m going to share with a poem I wrote for my summer creative writing class. I’m very fond of it.

 

The Day I Fell In Love With My Pocket

He fluffs and sometimes ruffles, softly swaying when I sway.
Crinkling, sometimes tinkling, with my nickels for the day.
He jingles and he jangles, sounding cheerful and quite merry.
My quiet friend, my loyal friend, filled with all that he can carry.

One day I didn’t give him any change or stuff to hold,
I was walking down the street when all at once, lo and behold!
My friend, he started talking! There I heard him say, “Hello!”
Twas a whisper, just a whisper, but it set my heart aglow.

His voice was raw, but soft and gentle; kinda friendly, rough and tough,
I giggled and I wriggled and found my brain was full of fluff!
But I went ahead and asked him, “Should I have left my purse at home?
Perhaps you’re feeling empty, would you like my keys, my phone?”

“No! I’m just here for conversation,” he huskily replied.
So huskily, so muskily, his voice touched me deep inside.
“My pocket’s talking! This is shocking!” I was thinking at this time.
His handsome ‘hello’ was heavenly – a taste of the sublime!

So I find myself at ease and I begin to chat nonstop,
Blabbering ‘bout my books and sister and my favorite coffee shop.
“How ‘bout you? What’s your life like? What’s your real name?” I ask at last.
He had only laughed and listened while I was spilling out my past.

He chortles and I blush. He says, “I don’t remember much;
I only know for certain I came alive at your first touch.”
I get so swoony and so moony and heaven knows I’m so in love.
His voice is deep, I’m swept off my feet, but there’s a problem here… sort of.

He’s so gentle, and sentimental, but he’s the stitching on my hip!
How’s a girl supposed to kiss a guy with threads instead of lips?
Pondering this loathsome problem, I stopped and listened to a sound:
The pocket on my hip began to beat; began to pound.

Steady, strong, I heard it pumping; starry eyed, I looked to see
My own true love and pocket had a heart, undoubtedly!
“Oh love of mine!” I cried aloud, “Let’s ride away together,
Into this summer sunset, and we’ll stay attached forever.”

Let me know what you think! I’ll admit, I am especially fond of it, which is why I’m choosing to share it with you fine people on WordPress.

Love always,
Anne

Standard