Ok, when I had started writing this blog, I had more or less made up my mind.
No poems. None of that rhymy stuff, I am not writing poems on this blog.
But then, I suppose in a weird way I posted my first poem here cos someone else asked me to post some of my work. I don’t know if I would have showed you one of my poems if you’d asked in real life, Rick.
But that is what is wrong (or right) with the internet. It makes people faceless. And it takes less courage to do things you don’t want to do in front of people if your audience ( like Lofter, Kwj, Annie girl, Whisperedsweet, Tomachfive, who have all left their comments on poems) is faceless.
So. Anyway. Rick posted a Thursday prompt last week, and I have been wanting to write about it. I love poems, but I have been wanting to write prose, ok?
But then again, what came out while writing this morning was a poem, again!
I am calling it “Play with me”
Play with me
Talking to you is like walking naked in the eastern breeze
I feel your touch in places I had never known existed.
Would you play with me, be my sun on this stretch of grass?
Let the call of the eagle hold the season in trance
while sunbeams play and dance to a silent song.
Close your eyes in an orange haze of touch and skin,
as clouds tease each other on the breath of May
and blackbirds play this summer noon.
Play with my feet, as I raise them one by one
play, play on the legs, play where they join,
play with my breasts, they wait upturned, plant your seed
in my waiting womb, play with me as that smile plays
on your mouth, let it play on my body, my earthen skin.
I am talking to you now, walking naked in the eastern breeze,
your smile touching me in places I had never known existed.
Kym , you sure are lucky to be blessed like that:). As to how the poem is done, I don’t think I deserve any credit. I mostly took down what the woman in Rick’s picture (image prompt) started dictating to me….this is the first draft.
Ovidia, You are welcome. Just that the minute my “poetry” steps out, the prose clams shut, and I find that very, very difficult.
Nice. Thank you. Hope it doesn’t ‘go away’ but we get to see more of them!
That poem captured light joy–something my husband gives me and I find hard to express with words. Wonderfully done!
Rick, I am hoping it will go away. But it shows up every morning. sigh. I joined a creative writing class to make all this prose and poetry and all that come out and then go away, so I can carry on with my normal freelance article writing in peace. Does not seem to be working.
Johemmant, welcome to my blog. I am glad you liked the poem, and I hope to see you here often.
Annie, I would write an epic poem, but I don’t think anybody would want to read it. But yeah if one of those insists on coming out( like this poem did), I am in trouble!
That was really great.
Maybe you should try writing a story via poetry? Like the epics of yore.
A lovely, delicate poem, I really enjoyed it.
You are a poet, no getting around it. You can try to stop but I don’t think poesy will let you ignore her for long. Your prose is terrific. Your poetry paints a lovely picture of your lovely soul.