Watercolor Garden
In a beautiful watercolor garden
There is a young maiden with skin so soft
The colors melt into oblivion.
She sits silently, waiting for the rain.
Waiting for the rain to wash the color away
So that the garden may throw
new, fresh colors at her once again.
And so she sits and waits.
Like the delicate wings of a butterfly,
The soft drops of rain begin to fall.
Cleansing will lead to rebirth in
New fantastic colors.
Stine Writing 
I enjoyed this. I find it easy to write prose – I guess most people would say I have too much to say anyhow – but it was only when I tried writing my own limericks that I realised how hard it was to cajole the words into a secific form.
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Haha, I too am a talker!!
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