In you I sought the
steadiness of rock
and found
an ocean
instead.
~~~
So I clung to driftwood
and rode the waves,
eyes burning for the sight
of crust and spores;
My feet, like
drunken sailors
enjoying the air,
shifted lurchingly above
merry waltzing sands.
~~~
The
fish they tittered,
the
sparkles they winked,
and I held on, held on,
melted my meat,
gulped the terror,
blew back at the wind
with lopsided cheeks.
~~~
Then your wings,
gossamer like stone, earth, sky,
they closed around me
and I built
my castle
on a houseboat
that rocked my
crinkled notions
to sleep.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Ode to demons that come on rubber boats perhaps?
aneela z: Goodness, no! More like exultation after a storm. Or winning a surfing championship.
This is poetic injustice, OJ. Iss no fair! One person has such talent while a whole lot of others wallow in their inability to articulate. Grr. Mesa jealous.
change. proverbial and painful.
Pallavi: Hon, my one real talent isn’t even known to people online. It’s crowing like a rooster. Really, ask the Boy, I could compete in the World Crowing Championships and kick everyone’s comb.
Nino’s Mum: You know, right?
“My feet, like
drunken sailors
enjoying the air”
wow.
Into what did the caterpillar turn?
A butterfly or a worm?
This poem’s really fluid
You’re like Asterix’s Druid
Magic-po(r)tioning words out of your fertile couldron!
dont know OJ…for me its not safe to go back to the water yet.
Glad to know that wisdom now wears a surf suit.
pri:… writes the girl who’s never been sloshed.
Ooh, the pretension!
Aunty G: Take your time,
The answer’s in the rhyme,
Just don’t choke
over my cauldron smoke,
Or my potions un-sublime.
aneela z: I should’ve known better. Always been a water baby. 🙂