Dilapidated, rustic, tired looking,
yet somehow, there is a spark of life somewhere,
water laps the sides of the little dingy,
keeping it buoyant against all odds.
Someone, sometime, cared for this little craft,
took it out on the early morning tide,
bow bracing against the rising wind,
churning, foaming water spewing out behind.
Bright blue paint from bow to stern,
ochre seat, burgundy sides,
flamboyant yellow motor singing
as it makes contact with the open sea.
Salty sea spray everywhere,
clinging to the skin, settling on the tiller,
waves unfurling,
catching the tips of sun-kissed rocks.
Wind, spray, laughter, joy,
gulls cries, chugging engine,
contentment, peace,
now.... waiting, hoping.
A contest entry
- Dinghy by ea.
300 points, ended August 5, 2007, 6 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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this captures a nice, wistful, kind of melancholy that I didn't notice in the painting until I read this. Thanks.
-
Dilapidated, rustic, tired looking,
yet somehow, there is a spark of life somewhere,
water laps the sides of the little dingy,
keeping it buoyant against all odds.
~
This first stanza is so strong, so important for the rest part of this poem, leading thoughts dinghy to the end of it's path. Vivid and colorful descriptions to the end.Great.
~Sonja~
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