Tag Archives: water

I am the stone

by

images-9

My spirits in the stone you hold
Warm it for a while, before I’m
cast in to the coolness of the lake
say your goodbyes
your peace with me
as I return to earth

As you let go into the stillness
remember the first ripples that you see
they belong to you, my love
the closet that is to me
for you I’ve loved and
have been loved in return

You are the one I fear for most
your pain will be felt most
the ripples continue outwards
belonging to family
beyond the eddies the circles wide
are for my life long friends

The water runs deep
I sink slowly to rest
along the sands below
beneath the cool
the ripples will subside
as must your pain

When all you see is the sunset
and no more sight of ‘me’
I will return to those I’ve loved
I still have breath to breathe

Copyright JMTacken 13.1.2015

nothing left

by

So, dive in!  At least dip your toe!  Get in the flow!  And sing! (But don’t get water up your nose.)  The topic for the day—a body or bodies of water.  For these purposes, a body of water can mean anything from an ocean to a mermaid (or man), a lake to a puddle, even, if you would, a glass, a tear, a rain drop.

FOR DVERSE ~ POET’S PUB    http://dversepoets.com/2013/07/27/water-water-everywhere-surely-theres-a-poem-there/

~~~~~~~~~~~

Seabirds grace skies
circumscribed by blackened clouds

~whispering my name
ocean beyond cerulean hue
beckoning

I walk ~hands splintering
on wooden rails, steepness of the
sandy track

you left
casting sandals across dampened
dunes bare foot

gazing to~
the crescent moon
lifting darkened green

my lips devour bubbles
liquid strength
you left

kick abandoned castles
tears ~as grains soar into the air
and I dance

whirling ~arms outstretched
as soles immerse
cold against the briny deep

I give of me to the hues of blue

swirls ~spilling saltiness
‘cross my lips
swallowing the sapor of the sea

you left

let the ocean swallow me

Walk on Visdare – Atmospheric

by
VISDARE CHALLENGE
# 13 Atmospheric
RULES:
150 words – or less.
Thank you for this brilliant photo this week! Another piece of Prose – Open for Critique please.
ImageProxy-1.mvc
Like soldiers aligned in rank
they maintain their stance

encircled by the mist

the ebb and flow of tides
barnacles invade
clutching wooden feet

imbedded in sand resilient
in forceful battering winds
with valour silent alone

their guard of honour
united for ever more
they persevere
defending pier

and countries shores
how many were
their battles
opposing mother nature’s force

in squalls and sheets of rain
currents circling oceans floor
with rotted splinted wood
their hubris will endure

scratched
and cut with shells they hold
wraith like soldiers marching
into war

For: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com.au

Crystal Waters

by

Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall

For The Magpietales. Pic The Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall

Translucent sun
falls on crests
mirrored
perfection

cascading marshmallows
across parched grains
with thirst
swallow eagerly

I lay with you
watching the mountains
spellbinding
tranquil

glass waters
never brittle
silken alluring
crystalline

our bodies
intertwine alone
this deserted
paradise

we ride the
crest of our own wave
the sun hits your back
tumbling waves

our orchestra
the only
meal I need
is
you

magpie-tales-statue-stamp-185

“My Sanctuary” for Picture it and Write

by

I am trying something a little different for this post. The below picture is from

pictureitandwrite2copy-1

This is a short story that came to me whilst looking at the picture below (1680 words).

I hope you enjoy the read.

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“Come with me” Robert held out his hand to Mary, who eagerly took hold.
“Where are we going?”
“To a special place nosey, you’ll love it”, he smiled reassuringly.
They had already parked the car and had been walking for over half an hour through the woods. Suddenly the trees came to an end and they reached a clearing at the waters edge.
Mary stood motionless, her gaze transfixed at a broken weather beaten old house with an equally dilapidated bridge that meandered it’s way to a small island on which the house stood.
“Whose house it is?” she asked.
“Mine” Robert replied. “Come on it’s safe, trust me”.
“It doesn’t look that safe, what if the bridge breaks?”
“Then we shall get wet, I suppose”, he chuckled.
 Mary edging her way across the wooden planks looking down at the water below, holding tight onto his hand, till she set her feet safely on land once again.
“How long have you had this? You have never mentioned it at all”.
“I bought it 3 years ago, it was up for sale for so long and it was cheap, too isolated for most, but for me,  it’s a place where I can write and paint to my hearts content, far from the madding crowd as they say, my little sanctuary”.
Robert retrieved the key from his jeans pocket and placed it in the lock. Mary stood behind him looking out at the water, the forest from where they came. This was indeed a secluded part of the world, where you could retreat to, but not really her cup of tea.
The door creaked open.
“After you madam,”he politely suggested holding his arm out in a gesturing manner.
“Why I thank you kind Sir”, she grinned.
Inside was dark and lacked furniture, an old wooden desk strewn with various pens and pencils, a copper lamp and some note-pads. A fireplace that was dusty and full of ash from the previous fire was centred on the far south wall. A small kitchenette, with the same proportion of dust over a saucepan left upside down on the steel sink. A couch, rocking chair and paintings on the wall completed the picture. She smirked giving a slight ‘tut-tut’.
“I know it needs a woman’s touch, I haven’t been up here for over six months,” Robert said trying to wipe down the desk whilst gathering the papers in his arms.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to do that on my account, you do have a bathroom though I hope”? she asked.
“No,  I go in the ocean…joking.. yes right through that door,” he laughed, pointing to a small door off the main room.
“I’ll get a fire started, it’s turning a bit chilly in here”.
Mary went to the bathroom she sat, looking at the corrugated iron walls around her. Thankfully there was toilet paper, though she wondered how old it was and if in fact it was still sanitary enough to use.
“Feel better now”?
“Yes, thank you”, emerging from the loo, blushing slightly
She looked around the walls upon which hung, mini paintings of boats, the ocean and the island itself. In the corner, stood a small easel not noticed on her first inspection, with a rather dirty palette containing dried up paint.
“You do these”? she said pointed to the paintings.
“Yes, my first pieces, so please don’t look too closely, I believe it’s best if one stands back to capture the image properly”.
“They are good Robert, no seriously, really good”. She walked along the  wall admiring them. “What on earth is this one”?
Robert walked up behind her, the smell of his after-shave was almost hypnotic, she felt his breath on the back of her neck.
“That”? “That my dear is my chest fridge, I just love the way the steel has been hammered and…ok I was particularly bored one afternoon, had enough of painting the boats”.
“Fascinating”, she responded, trying so desperately hard to sound convincing.
He smiled. “Why, I thank you Mary”.
“So, no phone, no TV?”
“No none, the last thing I want is to be contactable when I’m in an artistic throe!”, Robert flung his arms in the air with mock grandeur. 
“So much about you that I do not know”, she quipped.
“I’m not that complex, really I’m not, just an ordinary run of the mill kinda guy” he said giving her a slight wink.
She tried to ignore it, maybe he had something in his eye..was it a wink. “So how long do you stay here, at one time I mean?”
“Sometimes a week, sometimes a month, depends on what I have going on and how much time I can get off. Of late it’s just been the weekends and holidays, as work has been so bloody busy” he said placing more wood and paper into the fire-place.
“Please sit down woman, you’re making the place look untidy”, he smirked.
“As if!” she retorted.
Mary obliged and sat down on the small couch in front of the fire place, watching Roberts lean forearms even more closely, the strength in his arms, the tendons, she shook her head to stop thinking this way, she had only known him for two weeks.
“Right then, that should do nicely, drink?”
“Yes please, and what would you recommend?”
“Let’s see, warm coke, water or red wine, I’m afraid the parlour is substantially lacking at the moment. Normally I bring supplies in from the mainland and bags of ice for the chest fridge, but this was spur of the moment to bring you up here, so I’m afraid it’s rather slim pickings”.
“How very primitive of you”, she giggled.”Then I shall partake in some red wine, I would hope it is vintage”?
“I think you will be pleasantly surprised madam”, he said bending down to lightly kiss her cheek.
She gazed into the fire, watching the lights flicker off the timber, the smoke curling its way, into the bricks above. We haven’t been intimate yet, she thought, which is rather odd, but why rush these things, possibly now, here, that will change, thinking of the kiss planted on her cheek.
Robert entered the room, holding the glass of wine.
“For you madam, I hope it is to your liking”, he said handing her a goblet of cherry red nectar.
“Thank you”, she put her nose to the inside of the glass and inhaled the aroma deeply.
“Oh I have wine connoisseur on my hands do I?”
“Not really, I’m just showing off”, she winked back. 
“No electricity out here either?” Mary asked inquisitively, noticing no light switches, I honestly don’t know how you do it, I couldn’t, even if it was only for a few days I’m afraid, I like the luxuries in life, be they ever so humble. This is way too primordial for me”, she said taking her first sip of wine.
“That’s why I love it, I have no need for anything, a bathroom, a desk, a fire-place, a couch, a kitchen, the fridge to keep my food cold, oil lamps and my easel, what more could a man ask for… I mean really?” There was that edgy smirk again, that seemed to hit right in her groin area.
Mary sipped more wine, it was slightly bitter, which she put down to being either, not a very expensive drop or past the ‘use by date’ even for a red.
“Hey, you’re not joining me?”
“No, I’m not much a red drinker, I just had some water.”Please don’t let that stop you enjoying, is it drinkable?”
Mary swallowed a mouthful. “It’s fine Robert thank you”.  “Do you get any visitors?” she asked gulping more wine, for some reason he was making her a little nervous, she had no idea why, probably because they hadn’t known each other that long. The wine was helping waylay any notions that sprung into her head as to where this little relationship or being privy to his private corner of the world was leading.
“More wine Mary?” Robert asked lifting the bottle to her glass. “You seem to be a little thirsty”.
He smiled that broad, delicious come hither smile and the only answer to that question was.
“You are trying to get me drunk and have your wicked way me kind Sir”, she replied hoping that yes that was indeed the plan, instead the only other thing to spring from her mouth was “Yes, please”.
Another glass was consumed, her head was starting to feel heavy, the speed in which the alcohol was taking effect was far quicker than what she anticipated and she was normally good at holding her liquor.
The room started to spin, her body starting to slowly sway and her eyes closed and opened several times as she gazed deep into the fire.
“You ok Mary?”, Robert held her hand “You don’t look very well, perhaps the wine is was too much, you didn’t eat much at lunch today did you?”
She couldn’t speak, she tried too, but no words came out, her mouth was dry and her body felt like lead, the thought of being lain on his bed,  with him beside her was all she could think about. The fire pirouetted before her and just before she passed out into his arms she swore she saw the devil dance in the flames.
Robert picked her up and carried her out of the room, she was so groggy, so unaware of her surroundings, but she heard him speak.
“Let me introduce you to my chest fridge my love”. She barely recognised his face contorting as he spoke.
Kicking open the lid, he gently placed her body inside, she couldn’t speak, could not yell, could not move, what had he done, what was he doing.
“I am sure you will be able to sleep that wine off”.
Locking the lid, Greg whistled as he casually strolled back into the house, grabbing a fresh bottle of red, he walked towards his easel and grabbed his finest red sable paintbrush, smiling.

 

Ramblingsfromamum February 2013

 

Deep River

by

theinnerwildkat.wordpress.com

Posted

Living Life Passionately

Please look at her site if you haven’t already.

I thought the line that she used so beautiful …it inspired this

I’m often a deep river
playing at being a rippling brook
my reverie unheard by others
the sound on stones

thrown across the water
mine and mine alone

you cannot see

the depth of me
or know how I feel

for words that may appear
simple may
have far greater meaning than what
you read…

a rippling brook continues
over stones
our stones
could be hurdles

there is more to me than what
I write
so much more than
words

contrast… unsure of how
the world will perceive

unknowing
self doubt
as to.. if I’m real

Lovers Lament

by
[youtube.com/watch?v=buHwwZCDkQk]

descending in blue waters
that will calm your inner soul
dance a water waltz with me
connecting hands in water flow

rise up take one more gulp of air
clasp our fingers tight
draw one singular breath with me
as we kiss the world goodnight

you do not have to fear my love
it shall happen very soon
water wrapped around our love
take your last glimpse of moon

quietly air deserts our lungs
don’t fight or struggle more
bubbles rise to surface
that cannot be restored

we will not suffer pain my love
everlasting sleep will happen soon
clasp your fingers into mine
take your last glimpse of moon

ramblingsfromamum   2.1.2013

Touch (Part 1) Poetry

by

Touch by hand the subtle things

Touch the child with new born skin

Touch the water in rock pools still

Touch the snow – white frozen chill

~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the bark of trees at dark

Touch the glass and leave your mark

Touch the animal that makes you shiver

Touch the stones in the rippling river

~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the pen so you may write

Touch the pillow you sleep on at night

Touch the cheek of those who blush

Touch the person whose heart is crushed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the grass in paddocks green

Touch the nuts of cooked praline

Touch the dust of cooled down ashes

Touch the steel of newly ground axes

~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the snail shell after a rainy day

Touch the old wood that built an archway

Touch the covers that warm you each night

Touch the wrongs to make them right

~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the water that flows from a tap

Touch the twigs and make them snap

Touch the fabric of clothes that you wear

Touch the heart of friends to show you care

~~~~~~~~~~~

Touch the old photos and reminisce

Touch the lips that you have kissed

Touch the book with the faded pages

Touch the one you will love for ages

Touch…a simple thing we sometimes take for granted…touch…sometimes we feel but do we ever touch

Courtesy Google & http://free-extras.com

Courtesy Google & http://free-extras.com

Summer – My Season

by

My body lies upon the sand and the warmth radiates and envelopes my every pore

I inwardly smile at how I feel, my senses are tingling and alive as I listen to the sounds of the waves tumbling

I have waited all year to feel this way

To be by the ocean to hear its sounds, to smell it

Summer

My hands dig into the soft and gritty like crystals and slowly I let each grain pass through my fingers

My eyes closed my breath draws in to absorb the perfume of the water, the smell of the warmest season

My eyes blink open and I stare to the sky above to watch the clouds dance in the wind that carries them

I watch as birds fly overhead and cry out making themselves known

Summer

So perfect the day the quietness, the stillness around me with only the waves and the sounds of feathered creatures

My mind escapes into the paradise, my thoughts tumble, like the waves they ebb and flow

How perfect, how serene at happiness complete

The seasons that make a difference to my feelings my emotions

Summer

I have waited for the warmth to feel the sand, to hear the ocean, to gaze into the water

I have passed through the cold and wintry months, the time of Spring and Autumn, with summer I am alive

This is my place, this is where I belong

I am content at peace

Summer

Why does this have such a hold on me?

Why am I happiest here?

I cannot say, is it because I am a water sign?

Possibly

Summer

Some places make us feel alive more than others

Being near the water is mine

I have tranquility listening to the waves or stepping amongst the rock pools to watch the life below

I simply belong

Summer

Do you have a place where you belong?

Where your senses come alive

Where the sounds of all around you without an orchestra

Fulfils you and takes you to a place you may only have in your dreams…

Summer

Written whilst listening to Phil Collins “Genesis”