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She will leave the warm embrace of
his bed, pull a t-shirt on to cover
and walk with silent feet across
the hard wooden floors while he,
adjusted to sudden space will move
and fling an arm across the now
vacant warmth of their bed.
She likes that time to herself
to watch the water from the
balcony, as spring ducks dive
hopeful ever for that last crumb
and numb feet now impervious
to the cold, dew wet concrete.
She likes to watch the early risers
pedalling along the paths, expending
energy, blowing stress in vapour breaths
as forbidden smokers huddle, casting
furtive looks and belching out their
fumes like old factory chimneys to weld
in amongst the grey skies of solitary morn.
Sounds fill her as the air chills
her narrowed gaze deep upon
dark opaque waters that relentlessly
carve a path to their distant dreams
singing songs of long wayward journeys.
She won’t move now until she feels
a warm hand touch her nape
and sleepy eyes beckon her from
this cold and lonely stance and such
a glance is as warming to her
as the bed she left a while ago.
They will sit with doors open
gently communicating through the
the lapping water, until its sated
rhythm calls. Then unspoken
they’ll take Sunday back to bed
and let the river run its course.
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This is sooo beautiful, so warm, and so uplifting, made me feel squishy inside, and I want some of that  I wish I could write like you Jen x |
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Emma ... that was so suberbly observational and must have been based on real experience and knowledge... It was breathtaking in that respect. Loved it! from jj  |
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That is a lovely poem. Beautifully discriptive. |
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Thanks Jen and you can write wonderfully - a little secret, this is an oldie as I can't write anything remotely good at the moment :)
Emma x
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Thank you JJ, I guess writing comes from inside, this is imagination, yet I have to say a recall as well - weird how writing plays tricks with our minds and our memories
Emma x
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Thanks Val, I appreciate your comment so much :)
Emma x
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It reminded me of a Sunday morning in summer. Waking up with the sun streaming into the room... Brilliant! |
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| | From:  kayano8 | Sent: 10/4/2008 2:33 PM |
Bravo that woman!! This is a write that says pity you didnt write it Stella lol Loved it from start to conclusion again well done you..xx |
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Seems you are a lady who captures vivid moments, or has a great imagination Emma. Whichever it is... you captivate it well. |
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Thank you Poetess - I miss summer - where did it go?
Thank you Stella (Kayano) thats a sweet comment - just wish I could write something new at the moment lol
Thanks Steve, I guess writing is what is from within and experiences, all jumbled up with imagination lol - thats a lovely comment - have to admit, writing to me is often about those special moments -the ones that generally don;t mean much in the grand scheme - but the stored away ones lol
Emma x
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Exquisite writing, Emma. The reader could have been there. This really conveys the ambiance. Merlin |
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So lovely...I enjoyed the read... Mariaxx |
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Thank you both, Merlin and Maria, I truly appreciate your input, just wish I had spelt the title correctly lol - thank you
Emma x
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