The rollers pressed and then ruffled the sand
And again they came and did the same.
They looked away from the grey waves and the boy took her hand.
He did not see the moisture in her eyes. The limpness in her wrist went unnoticed.
Hand in hand walked the fated lovers. She had two steps for his one.
Unrushed but so lightly lambasted, she followed in his wake.
Whilst surveying the pretentious paradisal scene, she thought, “It’s done.”
The imagined repercussions of the thoughts assaulted her tongue to silence
The exhausted sun stumbled to its bed in the sea.
It winked at her as if it had just witnessed a disturbing joke;
As if it grasped the immediate future in which the couple together could never be.
On cue, it dipped behind the horizon leaving faint rosy reminders of its presence.
They lost jerky momentum before a cluster of sea-side plants.
His face switched on as he engaged her features and rambled on about romance.
He could not feel the icy barricade that was represented by her stance.
She forged a half-smile and followed his lead, talking until the first star shone.
Unvoiced notions warred inside her head, her heart said yes but her brain said no.
He stared enamoured at her face, a mere silhouette in the dusk.
Her mind was going to erupt. She turned discreetly. He begged her not to go.
She stayed, out of habit.
There were no butterflies in her stomach, only rhinos on stampede.
He moved to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. They were poison: the last straw.
“I do love you,” it gushed out, choked. Her heart was going to bleed!
She’d said it, given him false hopes. He reciprocated.
There were more munitions in her head to fight the battles of love.
To fight is slaughter. Her heart has already won. There’ll be no prisoners, except her.
And so, unwillingly, but bound, she gazed at the stars above.
A foghorn sounds. She imagines a sinking ship and wishes she was on it.
Oblivious to the war zone beside him, the boy sits placidly.
He’s overjoyed. He has found the one. He squeezes her hand, thrilled to be near.
She tries to evade his attention. He thinks she’s playing evasively.
They sit universes apart. Too close for her comfort. Not close enough for his.
A contest entry
- Tell us the story (In rhyme) by cricketjeff.
3500 points, ended March 28, 67 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Tick me off. or please me your choice. by Black Wolf.
1150 points, ended March 28, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
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Thanks for the entry, a touching story that holds the attention, we have both found it an interesting read
Jeff and Sue
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wow, an exelent write that keeps the readers attention though out and is full of imigary and emotion, good luck in the contest and thank you for sharing this very sad write
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The last line is very, very good. You imply everything that needs to be understood about his emotions and hers: "Too close for her comfort. Not close enough for his." It's an instance of what's right with this poem--your skill with physical details and attitudes.
But lines like "Whilst surveying the pretentious paradisal scene, she thought, 'It's done,'" and "She tries to evade his attention. He thinks she's playing evasively" sound too prosaic against your better moments that blend action and emotion. They're "tell me" lines that stick out in contrast because your "show me" lines are so well-done.
I can feel this poem saying something authentic--like a radio station that's coming in and out of range. If you pare some of the bottom-line narration down, really emphasizing the most-meaningful aspects of what's happening, I think this could hit any reader with the strength of picture that's obviously in you, judging from that wonderful last line.
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Understandable
This poem tells us how some people cannot make their hearts and brains work in sync.
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