Pine

image

Branches transforming into her hair
Watching, but not meaning to stare
I wonder, how often your mind goes there

Your hands slowly needing to gather
One delicate end to the other
In an effort to feel her

Lightest of tree feathers linger
Cascading through your rough fingers
Your senses confirming, as lips simper

Silky, smooth and smelling of pine
I know you think of her all the time
Understanding now, you’ll never be mine

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49 thoughts on “Pine

  1. What a great visual you have created with your words ~ and with the scent of pine, you really are attacking the senses with this poem, which is strange as their is such a sad inevitability with the last stanza it’s like you are doing the opposite of attacking…

    Just read the above… I think that may seal-the-deal that I cannot be a professional critic or judge of poetry πŸ™‚ In simple terms, great writing ~ maybe it is sadness for both poet & subject?!?

    • Dalo, you know better…I signed you on as critic and judge of my poetry months ago. You aren’t allowed to turn back now. I’d miss you far too much. Plus, no one wants to read how she’s going to kill herself this time poetry. Giggle. So front and center, Sir.

      Would you like the short version of explanation or the long one? Let’s just see how it goes, shall we?

      I took this picture and immediately thought of long beautiful blonde hair, completely opposite of my long curly red hair, and had the urge to feel the branch. To see if it felt the same as mine, knowing honestly that it wouldn’t, I began my normal process of longing to be what a broken hearted man needs.(getting into character) I suppose my way of wishing I could save all broken hearts, but realizing there’s one in particular that needs to know love, but seems to be on a different quest … just a quick walk through of this poetess’ mind…I know you would tell me that it all comes down to relying on fate and destiny or your ηΌ˜εˆ†. What a ramble, huh? I never said writing just a few lines was easy or clearly approached. I think if we were to judge this one its a matter of her not knowing if he’s ready for a new love. She just patiently waiting to see how he feels about that branch. She sounds shy. πŸ˜‰

  2. Ohhhh, sounds sad Audrey. Like there’s a longing that can’t be fulfilled. Sad poems say so much (ok, I stole that from Elton John. Just switched up a word).
    Lovely.
    πŸ™‚

  3. Audrey… This is beautiful poetry “one delicate end to the other”… Now, if you could teach me how to stare at a picture and come up with such beautiful words, I’d very much appreciate it…

    • I would be more than happy to talk to you about how my mind works, Michael. I have a feeling that your poetic process is very similar to mine. We harbor a lot of feelings…ours or not and then bleed them, huh? It isn’t always easy and it feels nice to have you near by. Thank you for saying this poem is beautiful. Thank you for finding peace with my words. You are so generous. xx

  4. I did enjoy this poem. πŸ™‚ I’m not sure exactly what about it resonated with me though. It has an air of sadness, but not depression, that works well with your choice of words.

    • Hi, Gus. Thank you. I was hoping those feelings would come through, you know. I just kept looking at this picture and the words soft and shy revealed themselves, but I wasn’t satisfied with those words. I just felt more than that, so I stared until the words came clean with me. I truly appreciate your tender interpretation. You’re amazing. xxx

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