Rememberings

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sat, 14 Dec 2013
  • 848 reads
4 comments
 
We were in France
Pont St. Pierre.
 
There was a storm –
broke the minute
they showed us
to our room.
 
There was wallpaper
with flowers 
on the ceiling
and wardrobe doors
as well as on the walls.
 
Your dress – fell
onto the bed
like a cacophony
of white petals
just where my shirt lay
 
and how gloriously
they intermingled
for one brief, 
half-second
 
the smell of garlic
wafted up the stairs
and outside, 
 
a little neon sign
flashed white and red
and lit up the sheets
like a midnight sun
 
and outside the window
an alphabet of rain
wrote your name
on a misted-up pane,
 
as we drifted 
to that place 
they call sleep...
 
so far away
from Camden Lock
yet found ourselves
perfectly at home, 
and oh, so
perfectly lost.
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Love

Comments

Submitted by prettyrose on

smileyBeautiful and well written, what more can I say, apart from it took me there, well I wish I was lol  :))))

 

take care x

smiley Keep Smiling

Keep Writing xxx

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Much obliged to you, Prettyrose.  And I wish I was there, again, myself...for many reasons.

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

The memory of the storm outside and the smell of garlic add so much to the atmosphere of the room, Tina. I loved the dress, 'like a cacophany of white petals'  'intermingling' with the shirt. 

I'm waiting for you to write something that isn't very beautiful, so I can stop repeating myself - but this is very beautiful writing. 

 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Many thanks, Bee.  Speaking of the garlic, as you were, it was the first time I had ever tasted it, and I must admit, I wasn't keen.  Far removed from the present time...I even grow it myself, and never realised there were so many varietiessmiley

 

Tina