Mathilde

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Mon, 03 Feb 2014
  • 1117 reads
6 comments
 
Drove to our beach, yesterday...
the one with the sand-dunes
where I taught you to fly a kite
and you taught me the art
of skimming stones. You know
the one I mean.  
 
Where we watched seagulls, 
dip and glide...you wore purple, 
pink-spotted jellies, and lost one
playing tag with the tide; hid your 
face in your hands when you cried.
 
As did I, when I believed I saw you – 
your head shouldered and shy, but
I was mistaken, and if grief
were the sea, I should have surely
drowned, and drowned again. 
 
Then, there was that moment, 
driving home; Mozart on the radio –
my arm, resting on the wound-down window, 
the wind sculpting my shirt-sleeve, and
somehow, you seemed near.
 
Can’t you be with me a while,
sometimes; if, ever so
slightly?  
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual
Love

Comments

Submitted by ScoZen on

hello sandlady

I have been away from ABC for  a while, but  really nice to come back and read this.

regards.

ScoZen

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

ScoZen, I noticed you on-line earlier.  Like a breath of fresh air you breeze in...and hey, thankssmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

One of those almost haunting of poems Tina.  I could feel the need to be back to a place with a loved one...that special moment that stays with you forever.

A poingnant but enjoyable read.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you, Jenny...very muchsmiley

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

hi Tina.

This has a special and familiar conversational tone that tells that she is with you all the time. I agree with Jenny, it is a haunting poem and very beautiful, if a little choking. 

Loved reading this,

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Many thanks, Bee.

Tina