Here, soft waters rush over ancient stones and
I feel the cool green moss with my fingertips.
Breathing deep from the salt-still air,
I’m crowded with feelings of nostalgia.
Swimming in the crick back home hunting for our elusive treasure
and seeing skies blue with fat white clouds
sliding across the mountains.
It's all just the same as home—
a world away.
Author notes
Jess' option #2
A contest entry
- Public Options Rounds Contest by Jezebelle Darktree.
550 points, ended June 26, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
wow, awesome write. makes me think of blowing all the money I've saved up and going to Ireland...hmmm maybe thats not a bad idea...
-
very good..
this poem is very good..it could use one or two more stanza's of details. you did excellent in that catagory. no spelling or grammer mistakes that i could find. i loved it..just that one suggestion and its just beautiful. i wanna go there now jk jk lol
-Jess-
Adding your comment:
