Autumn color displays
its soul, complex and deep.
Eyes feast upon intricacies,
drama against sullen sky.
November’s grip, winter
chasing sun
sky threatening
eruption, emotion held
to its breast,
since spring came and went.
Intense hue
a taste, pungent;
how it lies upon my tongue
awaiting discovery.
:
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Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
Blue seas have their own language.
The undulation of dark through light
whispers and roars,
the world becomes strange
day to night. We search the silence
for words unsaid, feelings unfelt,
everything we’ve ever known …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
Find the complete version here.
:
©Christine Kelly 2019 (words and photograph)
She was a discovery waiting to happen.
The moment he saw her he knew –
evocative of the unexpected scene you come upon
as you wander an unknown path;
eyes widening just a bit,
smile flirting at the edges of your mouth,
something to enrich your senses
and take your breath –
and oh how he wanted to get lost,
lost in the way she falls.
and in the way he catches her.
:
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All rights reserved.
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
My eyes take in the quiet sea,
appreciating the color and lines,
the clear view of the horizon.
The swells will come,
(this I know)
churning beneath the waves –
unseen but expected –
as I acknowledge that everything
is unsettled
and all I can do
is ride that wave to shore.
:
Copyright © SirenSong1208
All rights reserved
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
Sometimes writing is like slipping
off your clothes
in the waning light of day
effortless
exhalation on a sigh
but most often it is retching
in solitude
a heaving up of your insides
results that are never pretty
generally painful
but necessary
relief
momentary
until all that bubbles up
furiously
is expelled
finding purchase
upon the page
:
Copyright © SirenSong1208
All rights reserved
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
I want to know
the thoughts that linger in his mind
when night closes in.
Do they render him sleepless,
his mind a hive
of activity,
plans and conjecture,
a body fitful with want;
or is he able to pull them
about him,
like a blanket,
feeling every soft pass
against his skin,
an inaudible sigh within
pleasure pulling him deep into dreams.
I want to know
the thoughts that linger in his mind
when night closes in,
I want to know
if they are of me.
:
Copyright © SirenSong1208
All rights reserved
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
It starts slow —
tentative touch
blooming
with color across your skin.
Like a meadow in summer,
thoughts that meander
gradually becoming
a steady hum
as he takes up residence.
A delicious
jolt
whenever you happen upon him
coursing through your veins,
pulsing beneath your skin.
Not simply desire
or respect
nor even tender regard,
but an
awakening
to him
and to yourself.
With every breath.
:
Copyright ©SirenSong1208
All rights reserved.
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
