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
Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister 
This just makes me think of things I shouldn’t…..I have such a talented sister.
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Do I love you, Anonymous Sister of mine. β‘
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Oh dear. It’s a sad one, Audith.
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Yes. Terribly horribly sad, Duketh. And just where have you been, Sir? Me thinks you mustn’t leave me unattended.
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So sorry! It was crazy for a while there. Still is. Life is crazy. And Punchy. Were you getting sad because you were unattended, or because there was a dragon blowing fire at your house?
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Is there a dragon blowing fire at my house? Where? Both, I guess.
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I’m not sure. But you could just send Mr. Warrior out to get it. And Oscar. That would fetch it, you know.
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Nope. Both hide under blankets.
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*holds ears and doesn’t believe it*
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Tis true
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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 π In simple terms, great writing ~ maybe it is sadness for both poet & subject?!?
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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 ηΌε. 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. π
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I love your poem!
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Wendell, it is always great seeing your face here. Thank you so very much!! I’m glad you love this poem. Much love.
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Wistful longing… Loved the vulnerability here.
xx
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Hello, Cinn. Thank you so much for noticing the vulnerability and for commenting on my poetry. You’re welcome back any time you’d like. xx
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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.
π
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The poem was supposed to be sad, Stac. It’ll be okay. Tomorrow’s another day and new inspiration to be found. You and Elton made me smile. Giggle. Thank you… xx
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Chuckle. Me and Elton John make you smile? Oh, that’s great. I’m so glad that we did. I hope you’re feeling better. Sad days are a part of life, but so are the happy ones, right? My hope is that today was a happy one.
Hugs.
π
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LOL Does that seem too strange? Ha. Yeah, sad days annoy the crap out of me. Mostly because I need to pinpoint the reason for it. Chalk it up to emotional over stimulation. Today is a good day. Just finished work and can relax for the next week. Time to plan for Thanksgiving!! Hugs β‘
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Once again, Audrey, fine writing
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John, thank you for supporting this poetry and me. You are the best. Always. xx
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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…
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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
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I did enjoy this poem. π 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.
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Thank you, Luke. You’re very sweet. I’m left feeling fulfilled with your feelings. I like knowing how my poetry makes someone feel. Feelings are important. Wistful and longing go with me like ketchup and mustard on a hot dog. xx
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Absolutely!
Ketchup and mustard… I know you’re being serious, but I find the image amusing. π
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I was being funny…Luke, when I start referencing hot dogs…please know, I’ve lost control and have began relying on humor. Yeah, that was an odd choice of words.
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“I feel so wistful, I’m absolutely DRENCHED in ketchup.” π I know what you mean though; they’re feelings that often inspire you, right? I’m just teasing you… π
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You, my friend, are a funny guy. Can you imagine being drenched in ketchup? Nasty. I do like some ketchup on my burger, you know. Tease away…I’ve teased you about your music choices recently.
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We are all hamburgers. We’re better with ketchup. Keeps us on our toes and not content with not moving forward.
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Deep thoughts, Luke.
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π
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The wistfulness trickles over the edge.
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Indeed it does, Susan.
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Love the visuals. Though the tone makes me want to hug someone.
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Charles, thank you for sitting long enough to enjoy the poem. I appreciate it. My guess is that men long just as any woman would. I’m glad you validated that for me. Yeah, a hug would be nice, too.
Thank you xx
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Longing does seem to be part of the human condition. Hug.
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Yes, and for some unknown reason my poetic mind cannot get enough of it. Hugs.
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Delicate and tender, and a sadness that feels naturally woven in, like an acceptance.
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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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This is different, Aud, the theme, the pacing. Interesting work here. I like it. Great change afoot in the vibe.
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Yes, it is different, I suppose. I just sat and stared at these branches until they told me what to write. Weird, I know. Thanks for being you, Chum. β‘
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Not weird at all, Aud. Not even odd. Good, I’d say. :-0
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You always know how to get a laugh out of me, Zak. I’m due over at your place. It has been a few days. Hang tight. I’m coming over and don’t feel a need to comment back. Nanno Bloggo and all that… π β‘
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Oh, I’ll comment back if I darn feel like it, Red. π
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You can same damn, my dear. It is allowed. π
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Damn. Damn. Damn. Dear. π
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So cute when he curses. π Goodnight, Chum
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