Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Brine

The ocean crawls up the rock face. Spray
descends
on cold skin
like tears
from the past.

Thoughts fold into matter
wash up on voices
that once poured
from the place
on the hill
where the wind
rattled the ache.

The place with the eyes
that glanced home.
The one that served wine
in pewter chalices
to fill the chasm
that stretched
from heart to head.

Our lips once touched
warm mead
gathered heaven
onto the tongue
while wind
shook windows
to breaking.

© 2011 Joanne Elliott

11 comments:

  1. Sad and haunting images in your post.

    I like these lines:
    "to fill the chasm
    that stretched
    from heart to head."

    Thanks for sharing it ~

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  2. Beautiful, especially that second stanza-- thoughts washing up on voices. Perfect!

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  3. you set up the stage nicely with the ocean crawling up the rock face...and then the third stanza...so much longing in these lines...beautiful
    The place with the eyes
    that glanced home.
    The one that served wine
    in pewter chalices...gives me goosebumps..

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  4. Very nice imagery. I could see a drafty castle, open fire blazing in the hearth and knights and their maidens sitting drinking from their pewter mugs.
    Lovely write.

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  5. Lovely poem filled with beautiful imagery.

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  6. Beautiful. I sat here for at least a full minute just feeling that sinking, and that memory so perfect rising through it. Sense of place and time just adds to the undercurrent of emotion. Truly loved this poem.

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  7. nice..really fantastic imagery...gathered heaven on tongue while windows shook to breaking is a powerful close...lots of great lines in this though...a beautiful longing...

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  8. Joanne! While wind shook windows to breaking....that line alone deserves an encore...perfectly played words, but that is the line I will remember. It is pure music! An ancient chant, a mariner lost, so many images play within my mind...

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  9. nice write my friend, the imagery is stunning:

    "Thoughts fold into matter
    wash up on voices
    that once poured
    from the place
    on the hill
    where the wind
    rattled the ache."

    truly fell into that stanza ~ Rose

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  10. Wow a kissing storm! Mine usually end up with everything around us just melting away, but hey, I could sure use a wind rattling windows through me every once in a while!

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