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Literature Text
Summer ocean shore...
bare feet patter on wet stone,
a child breathes salt air.
bare feet patter on wet stone,
a child breathes salt air.
Literature
Gestation
Immersed in a fluid universe,
contained within a cave of living flesh,
he thrives as tides and currents
nourish his secret growth.
He lives a dream
of eternity.
Literature
Orphan
Sunlight trickles in,
prying her eyelids open.
"It's morning, Lilly."
"Wake up, you worthless child,"
cries the sun.
"Wake up, Sweetie,"
her mother utters softly.
"Wake up and see
how beautiful the world is."
Once upon a time, perhaps,
but not anymore.
Once upon a time,
a lot of things.
Like once upon a time,
she had a warm bed,
and her mother
came in every morning
to tell her
it was time,
time to open up
her lovely chocolate eyes
and show the world
her brightest smile.
"Look, Lilly,"
she would say
as she pulled the curtains
gently aside.
"Look at the sun;
isn't she gorgeous?"
"Yes, Mommy,"
she'd whisper, gri
Literature
Burning Butterflies
By the end of the second week, we had little choice but to take a shotgun approach. The fault of this circumstance lay solely in our hands, rough with procrastination. We had held off on beginning the project through sheer self-interest, our thoughts divided from the task much, if not more so, then our individual attentions to the course. I had taken the course in hopes of finding some significance in my career path. She was simply bored by hard science and statistics. In terms of inspiration and drive, both of us would be found decidedly wanting. In the end, that's what drove our two desks, separated by the margin of twelve other
This was actually written some years ago, but I consider it one of my best. Based on childhood retreats to the Connecticut shore.
© 2010 - 2024 Shamziel
Comments2
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It brings back memories of when I visited the beaches in Connecticut too. Not so much of the New Jersey beaches though, they were nasty.