on the wet grass
beside the park
a lone summer shoe
glitters
despite the clouds
I am late already
but the shoe calls,
begging to be slipped
onto the delicate feet
of a princess
not yet discovered
tended by poet Frances Donovan
Garden of Words 
Very visual. I love it. Please take a look at my works – http://coconutspeak.wordpress.com
http://medicatedwordzallowed.wordpress.com
Thank you for the kind words! And for the new reading material! I’ve been to your first blog and enjoyed it heartily.