Wednesday 19 August 2009

Not Sloth

I fell into a trap at dawn.

East, the sun

lit the sea awash

and I looked for, longed for, ached for, rest.

 

Stepping into this trap

I laid up

but knew, deep down, that ink can run

letters form, words rhyme, there’s no time

 

and I saw a white sheet

hanging on a line

pulling moisture from the sun

and sizzling waves;

loosening fibres, softening edges:

ready for work.


9 comments:

  1. I saw you started following me on twitter so I checked out your blog. I like your poems. I definitely have the same feelings you described in 'Not Sloth' at times. I hope you check out my poems at jumpscurbsonvenus.blogspot.com too. I'd love to hear your feedback (good or bad) on any of them.

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  2. I've only just dipped into your poesy... Find this one incredibly evocative. Shall be coming back again and again, I know.

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  3. WOW! John, this is a great poem. I love the descriptiveness that you use. Beautifully written. I enjoy reading it. Keep on writing.
    Have a great night!
    Noreen Ann Jenkins(My pen name)
    noreen Ann Snyder (My married name)
    www.freewebs.com/noreenannjenkins

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  4. Great is the call of the oceans and great are the words that speak of it.

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  5. This is a favourite. its 'the white sheet... pulling moisture from the sun' that charms my mind.

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  6. John this resonates .. I love your work. Well Done

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  7. bacon when you pick it up by the crisp

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  8. Nature sometimes, the sea, the warm sun, is the only thing that can bring us back to writing. Lovely piece John.

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