The hook of the cucumber vine
grew up over your feet, over the rough framesmade from limbs of unknown trees
and buds of amber flames
bloomed to make it a shrine.
A dawn of rather stale
morning-breath has comewith rattles of grass plumes
frothing in the scum
filling in the wrong details
I think of you so close
slashed cucumber fresh your handson 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 windsto 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 smilethis stale and that cringe
and one tall pyramid pile
of pickles on the shelf?
Linked to OpenLinkNight@dVerse
Amazing word play!
ReplyDeleteMy first time here...shall come back for more :)
Thank you for stopping by. Glad you enjoyed the words :)
DeleteI love the sound of this, the words play together very well. I also like the mood you created.
ReplyDeleteThank you...love that image of words playing together :) glad you liked it
Deletewow 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...
ReplyDeleteThank you... for the visit and feedback...much appreciated
DeleteLike 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. :)
ReplyDeleteScents paint like nothing else can! :) Thanks for your comment...glad you enjoyed the poetry..
DeleteI like your focus as well as the use of metaphor. I specially like these lines:
ReplyDeleteI 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.
Thank you. Much appreciated.
Delete