I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

18 December 2017

Early and Late

Initially, passion shocked 
my mouth open,
made my toes 
curl tight, uncurl….

Finally, your touch
in its lack
chills my skin,
slows my blood.


A belated attempt to respond to the recent prompt, Micro Poetry ~ Fire and Ice, at 'imaginary garden with real toads'. 
Also written for THE POETRY OF THREE, Three Words Per Line on facebook. 
And linked to The Tuesday Platform for 30 Jan. 2018 at "imaginary garden with real toads".


9 comments:

  1. To go from so much to so little, from everything to nothing at all... That sort of pain can destroy a soul.

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  2. My goodness this is powerful! The lack of warmth and passion can numb the soul.

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  3. Ah, those physical reactions that come with love, the way they twist us... and then not.

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  4. From that passion to when it's cools off is a very strong image, especially love the curling of the toes....

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  5. When the fire dies.. a lot dies with it... !!!

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  6. I need a touch like that it's been some time. ~sigh~

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  7. Intense, and immediate! Great write, in so few lines!

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