That morning

Tthe photo shows a man, on a pier, in a carefree swinging movement. A body of water is visible in the background.

You danced for me
early that morning
when you walked me home
from the party.

Dawn was breaking,
early morning sun
shone over the river.
Your steps were so light,
we were both so free.

Now you dance no more.
But I at least still have that
early morning memory.


Written in response to SadjeWhat Do You See #28 photo prompt.
Image credit: Zhugher on Pixabay

Before it’s too late

Detail from Hanover and Tennant Street, District Six by Solly Gutman
Detail from ‘Hanover and Tennant Streets’ by Solly Gutman

Come sit with me
here on the stoep
and tell me your stories.

Tell me about
when you were a girl
with a flower in your hair
on the first day of spring.

Tell me about
the games you played,
the friends you made
and the songs you sang.

Tell me about
the parades and parties,
the festivals and dances
and the secret stolen kisses.

Tell me about
the man you married,
the children you had
and the plans that you made.

What were your hopes?
What were your dreams?
Who was the woman you wanted to be?

Come sit with me
and sip your tea, and
tell me your stories.

 

Forgotten

forgotten by chris hall lunasonline

Her memories were wrapped up
in the present.

The milestones of her life.
Happy times, happy faces!
And the bitter-sweet, 
the sobs and sighs.

Then waiting and hoping;
futile as it turned out.

Try. Open the box.
Look inside!

Oh, but it is empty.
Not even dust.
The memories, just ether,
Her mind, a void.


From  a prompt by Hélène Vaillant of Willow Poetry: What do you see May 28, 2019

Can you look again?

000 HW Prompt 28.04.19
Source

What do you see, Tiger Lily?

I see the moon.
I see the path shining in front of me, illuminated in the bright moonlight.

What else?

Nothing else.

What do you feel, Tiger Lily?

I feel the dampness of the night.
I feel the ground, wet beneath my feet.

What do you hear, Tiger Lily?

I hear waves breaking on a shore far away.
Do I hear you breathing?
Why can’t I see you?

What do you smell, Tiger Lily?

I smell the dampness of the earth.
Nothing else.
Where are you?

What do you taste, Tiger Lily

I taste nothing.
Just emptiness.

What do you remember, Tiger Lily?

I remember when we first met; on a moon-bright night like this.
I remember… everything.

And what do you want, Tiger Lily?

I want you back.


Written in response to The Haunted Wordsmith’s Daily Prompt 28.04.19