Ever so gently green curls crash on sand.
I Loves You Porgy weaves
In and out of waves
In a licorice sound,
Breaking my heart anew.
Life hangs on
In green curls of lichen
Bound to driftwood,
In tumbles of pebbles
In lacy waters.
My feet lead me nowhere
And my heart astray.
Will I ever find the way home
Before curled fingers close the lid?
AnElephantCant change his mind ever
Emmy is the best poet this side of the moon
But if he has to guess
As to who is playing Bess
He thinks Nina Simone is singing this wee tune
AnElephantCan make me smile
even when Nina is singing
her sorrow is futile
I just stand here grinning.
Oh, you’ll find home, Em.
Certainly hope so. I want to hang my hat now and leave my shoes by the door.
Don’t we all, my friend. Don’t we all…
Last line, BAM! Loved it.
Thank you. Where else could I have put a third curl?
Home can be wherever you want it to be… Most times the problem is the journey you take to get there. Really nice poem, Emm. A bit on the sad side, but I liked it. 🙂
This journey has been a bit rough. I am glad you liked the poem in spite of the sadness. 🙂
Thank you. Life moves on. Carpe diem and all that, n’est-ce pas?
C’est vrai, mon amie