Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Cucumber shrine


The hook of the cucumber vine
grew up over your feet, over the rough frames
made from limbs of unknown trees
and buds of amber flames
bloomed to make it a shrine.

 

A dawn of rather stale
morning-breath has come
with rattles of grass plumes
frothing in the scum
filling in the wrong details

 

I think of you so close
slashed cucumber fresh your hands
on my back, and my knees
still gritty with the sands
on which the vine grows.

 

The patio isn’t far
to sit and watch the winds
to feel the sands creep close
to see the lean moon cringe
away from a star.

 

Did you want this for yourself
should it make me smile
this stale and that cringe
and one tall pyramid pile
of pickles on the shelf?


Linked to OpenLinkNight@dVerse

10 comments:

  1. Amazing word play!
    My first time here...shall come back for more :)

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    1. Thank you for stopping by. Glad you enjoyed the words :)

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  2. I love the sound of this, the words play together very well. I also like the mood you created.

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    1. Thank you...love that image of words playing together :) glad you liked it

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  3. wow really cool verse...and very natural...i wonder you are the second to use morning breath for the sky...pretty cool...i like the pondering at the end as well..some rich imagery along the way...

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    1. Thank you... for the visit and feedback...much appreciated

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  4. Like the imagery, the senses of touch and scents. Really like how each stanza brings together a scene or portrait, cringe and attract. Enjoyed reading this. :)

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    1. Scents paint like nothing else can! :) Thanks for your comment...glad you enjoyed the poetry..

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  5. I like your focus as well as the use of metaphor. I specially like these lines:

    I think of you so close
    slashed cucumber fresh your hands
    on my back, and my knees
    still gritty with the sands
    on which the vine grows.

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