Sunday, March 11, 2018

A Poem Made by Hand/Sunday's Whirligig #152


A Poem Made by Hand


The winds blow gently through my head
The mind an empty space
Void of all thoughts
I have brought nothing with me
Perhaps a bird is nesting in my hair

The waves touch the beach
Washing all in sight
The gulls scream and dive
Fight for breakfast
I join them
In hopes of finding words
For my poem

We dive deep
The bottom murky
I search with my hands
For sleek things
Brought to the surface
They glisten in the surf

I want my poem to glide on the wind
Float on the waves like balsa wood
From some distant island
Or a surfer catching a wave

This poem is for you
Made by hand
We touch the tips of our fingers
Hand and hand
We splash again into the sea

March 11, 2018





11 comments:

Jae Rose said...

Beautifully written Annell

Donna@LivingFromHappiness said...

I love how you used the words to create this poem that rolls in like the waves....

'I want my poem to glide on the wind
Float on the waves like balsa wood
From some distant island
Or a surfer catching a wave'

Sometimes they do glide, and sometimes we have to reach to that murky bottom....Brilliant write!

brudberg said...

Finding the words from the wind is just what a poet needs.

Nicholas Barry Wrighton Napolitano Constantin said...

excellent.

Mary said...

I like the connections being made in this poem...connections between poet and reader. Through your words we touch fingertips, and that is no small thing.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is so beautiful. I love every line, especially finding words for your poem, and the glistening things you bring up to the surface. This is a wonderful metaphor........as we read, we do touch fingertips, across all the miles........a very lovely write, my friend. You have sent me off to the beach to search for some poetic treasures of my own!

Sanaa Rizvi said...

'I want my poem to glide on the wind
Float on the waves like balsa wood
From some distant island
Or a surfer catching a wave'

Love this!!💖💖 Beautifully profound!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I so love this! It brings back many childhood memories.

Susie Clevenger said...

The freedom to have your poem journey where it wishes, to know flight, water... beautiful

Wendy Bourke said...

This is exquisite ... mesmeric metaphors and nuanced images floating on beautiful words. I agree with Sanaa's use of the word 'profound' in her comment: this piece is 'freeing'.

Puff Of Smoke Poems said...

beautiful images--you built a poem (as light as balsa wood) that is so visual, it's more like seeing than reading. Lovely.

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