Med in the Shade

2013-10-29 10.10.46

For days the sun is gone taking the sky with him

The Med frets in heavy dark sighs
She carries dead sea grasses
Leaves them on pebbles
Like torn burned letters

She melts away in shades of green and grey
Dissipates in a dreamy haze
Her longing billows
Piles up against the Maures*
Falls back along slopes
Shreds on brown sugar rocks

Only bird songs in crystal notes
And white elusive butterflies
Slip and glide through
Scents of confused blossoms
who mingle and play
In moisture laden air

He will come back I tell her
She shrugs
Then slaps a pier
With a rogue ripple

Elusive butterfly

* Massif des Maures. Mountains surrounding Medville

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Life, Poesie, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

25 Responses to Med in the Shade

  1. Arkenaten says:

    I am too much of a Neanderthal to truly appreciate poetry, but I second John’s comment.
    That is a great phrase.


    • emmylgant says:

      Thanks Ark I appreciate your stopping by. I doubt that you are a Neanderthal, I really do. Poetry is like a picture. Sometimes the lines get you and sometimes it’s textures, rhythm or color. Sometimes it leaves you cold too. Not every poem is a work of art you know. πŸ™‚
      I am glad you liked that line.


      • Arkenaten says:

        Are you living near the Med?


        • emmylgant says:

          Yes I am. A resort town in the South of France, which I call Medville ( to protect the innocent;-) of course). It boasts 9500 inhabitants in the winter and 3x that in the summer months.


          • Arkenaten says:

            Sounds perfect.
            I have family in Portugal near Porto and if I am fortunate to be able to one day write books for a living instead of merely for fun I would love to find a small town and park off.

            Though the weather in Johannesburg might be tough to give up!

            I had friends in the South of France many moons ago, in a small town called Labruguiere.Though it is listed as a city with a pop. of around 5000.
            My friend’s dad used to be the manager of a local paper mill.
            It is a short distance from Castres and about 60 klms from Toulouse if memory serves.
            Sadly we lost touch.

            C’est la vie, n’est pas? πŸ™‚


            • emmylgant says:

              I drove through Labruguiere a month or so ago!
              I don’t know about the weather in Johannesburg but in spite of all my moaning about gray skies, We can’t complain. 26C at noon yesterday. 21C today, still wearing sandals…
              May be you should try to reconnect with those old friends. Most likely they would be thrilled to hear from you.
              Et oui, c’est la vie. On se perd de vue et le temps passe.


  2. What a character this Med! How capricious!How passionate!
    Of course, “For days the sun is gone taking the sky with him”. what a strong image: absence/presence.


  3. makagutu says:

    Just waving to say hello to my good friend


  4. Suz says:

    Love it… Love it…. Love it…. brown sugar rocks


  5. john zande says:

    She shrugs
    Then slaps a pier

    Oh how I like this line.


  6. Une histoire qui chante.
    Un poeme qui fait la magie.
    Une performance qui transporte.


  7. monocochlearmutineer says:

    If this was a painting, it would be a sublime Constable.


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