Windswept hairs across my face.
It feels like grits between my toes.
They're calling me above the beach,
but I'm in my spot that no one knows.
Knotted seaweed spins around.
The whales begin to pass again.
The waves erase my human trace,
as I sit in the mist and rain.
The ocean spray pounds the rocks.
My daydreams surge in with the tide.
Reflections fade from glass-like stones,
as responsibility drifts aside.
The sun has melted with the sea.
Their voices I try not to hear.
But down here on my agate beach,
for a moment I can disappear.
Crystal Kerr
7~28~08
Author notes
ursa minor
A contest entry
- PIF Contest /Word Prompt by Rowan.
800 points, ended August 18, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Poetry, Poetry and PreWrites! by Lost Vampyre Angel.
1200 points, ended September 13, 2008, 340 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Past life echo's by Draig aine.
1150 points, ended January 5, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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My humble thanks
just was reviewing my old contest and waned to thanks you for your entry, I enjoyed it very much sorry for the late reply
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This wasn't bad for rhyme, a little more work with meter perhaps, but overall a very very good attempt, with some good original thought. When I used to practise rhyme, I used to keep a sharp eye on syllable count. It really does make it flow better.
This line seemed a bit off though:
"It feels like grits between my toes."
perhaps 'grit' grits make me think of fried grits.
Anyway, I like the content of this.
Thanks for entering.
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Actually I was referring to the breakfast... grits. lol. and I'm usually very particular about meter. a lot of my other poems are more firmly structured. but my focus in this one was the feeling and imagery and not so much meter and technical stuff. Thanks for your candor!
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awsomeness
your pretty damn tallented... -
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thanks
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