Sunday, October 9, 2016

October 9, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig #80 -- The Sunday Whirl #269 -- Poets United Poets Pantry/Memories of Summer

Memories of Summer

regrets                  lie around                like dead flowers in the garden

the season for fresh blooms     is gone           i prepare for winter

leaving wet suits           on the line                  summer's laughter fleeting

yet my heart is filled        with the warm cargo of summer        beach parties

picnics              hold the shell to your ear          gentle breezes heard

waves pound the shore                        seagulls scream           the sun sets in the west                                                                                              



regrets left behind        to return another season         with thoughts of you

hearts entwined with silver thread         there is no danger we will forget

our tongues lap warm milk from the bowl                        you were torn from me

years gobbled up                     your brindled coat thrown over the chair

your presence remains              memories of summer   fill my heart



from the bridge             i see the ship               leaving shore  

mist settles in               the view becomes obsure         the afternoon light

lingers              still, i try to follow the ship         until out of sight          

there is a trail across the water             white foam       reflections of sky

with a tiny needle         i make small stitches                 to hold memories together

bind pages into the book         whisper words              hoping you will hear                



October 7, 2016          

           






8 comments:

scotthastiepoet said...

So beautifully written and felt Annell - you got right through with this one and had my eyes moistening up... Delightfully vivid and tender too... Thanks so much and the perfect piece to finish with for the time being... x

brudberg said...

This is the season to recall, to remember what's past. Yet there is a voice of hope in your voice... well rendered my friend.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is very poignant, the remembering, the lapping of warm milk from the bowl, the one torn from you, the tiny stitches of remembering....sigh. A most gorgeous poem, my friend.

Jae Rose said...

He hears..and my heart and love goes to your fingers quietly stitching keeping all that's important safe - at sun up and sun down..always watching over xo

Sanaa Rizvi said...

'i make small stitches to hold memories together, bind pages into the book, whisper words hoping you will hear'

Beautiful lines Annell ❤️

Mary said...

Indeed those regrets somehow keep hanging around,don't they? We may get rid of them for one season, but there is always another season....and they always DO resurface!

Old Egg said...

This is one of your best Annell. So full of beautiful memories that readers can immerse themselves in.

Anonymous said...

One tends to want to spend a long time on reading your pieces, to allow the images to form and relate to one another.

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