Open Poetry #26 |
Scrapbooks (Rewrite #1) |
ptwils165 Member
since 2002-11-29
Posts 50 |
Shy whispers from an overturned page tell of sibling summers and soft towels scraping sand from tiny toes as dad rests on the coastline wall. Papering pink feet with care, he is determined yet smiling, as if he somehow knows that his youth lies here with ours. On the right, my sister, with an ice cream tipped to the ground- a falling tower half-gripped by four miniature fingers. These hands forget their purpose, as holiday hours detonate sight and sound to infant frames, forever forming. Two children wonder, yet not in confusion; their smiles as fresh as our own As aching tides strengthen with every sigh, and sifting seas refuse to tire, shards of antique rock emboss our memories of a neon sky. They sharpen this picture of hazy june against a backdrop of laughing sands, and the shadows which will never miss the pacific as we do. (comments and guidelines would be really appreciated, as this stuff is tough for me right now) |
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© Copyright 2003 ptwils165 - All Rights Reserved | |||
AniKay83 Member
since 2000-06-28
Posts 388Missing Since 1999 |
Well, you want comments and guidelines? Keep doin' what you're doin'!!! And that falls in both categories... A very powerful piece; I would paste my favorite lines, but I'd be pasting the whole thing... This is going in my library. www.heybroproductions.com |
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gemjop Member Elite
since 2002-11-18
Posts 2587Pencilveinia, USA |
and sifting seas refuse to tire, shards of antique rock emboss our memories of a neon sky. I'm agreeing. this had some very strong lines, it drew me in with its detail. loved the dad getting sand off your feet bit. reminded me of my own memories. very much enjoyed this. lots of love, gemma xxx |
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cara_dillon New Member
since 2003-06-09
Posts 1 |
nice and nostalgic. enjoyed this.... cara. |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
very cool write, loved it! |
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the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
My sister has a scrapbook of her wedding and now one on her being pregnant. I loved this poem. Cold hands means a warm heart |
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ptwils165 Member
since 2002-11-29
Posts 50 |
thanks guys, glad this one was enjoyed -all your comments very much appreciated.. |
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