Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth
you hold me as we round
rough edged and storm bound
warm in guernseys knitted
by old crones
dripping emotions like sea-spray
coloured indigo and paynes gray
we blend into the heather scented hills
of August
dusted purple and hiding grouse
flushed out
their cry startles the world still
cloud banks jumble winds
and porpoises follow on a racing tide
you hold me as we round
the coast to Brother Isle
push the soaked tendrils of hair
from my eyes
we watch gannets dive
thudding south spearing game
as they scream
you kiss my eyes free of salt
as i bury my fear in your neck
and pray for journeys end.
17/8/14
KD
My worst nightmare, a boat, a storm, I am not a sailor!! See everyone elses take here
Sharply, satisfyingly inventive. Rather moving...
ReplyDeleteWow, you caught my thoughts by surprise in how this poem was headed. Quite a vivid poem.
ReplyDeleteYou painted a beautifully coloured picture to replace the monotone of the prompt,and the underlying anxiety of a non-sailor certainly showed in your words.
ReplyDeleteLove the look of your blog.
ReplyDeleteAlso thought this was beautifully written. Nice Mag. Love and Light, S
Brilliantly descriptive. I went along the same lines (or waves!) with mine.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful imagery amazing poem Kay! Romantic and bittersweet. I love it!
ReplyDeleteBut it never does end ....
ReplyDeleteOh I can smell that heather...
ReplyDelete