Sitting on my floating vessel
Opposing the shore
I gaze upon a gazelle-
skipping across water swells:
Drawing up
Shaping to roll
Hollow
Glass cylinders inside
Feathery wonders outside
Mist blows on my face
From her under-the-lip-snaps
Sending telegrams of hope my way
She makes moves that marvel
A trace of her iridescent blue suit
gyrates through
a water tunnel
Her fingers caress the walls
melting the glass
with streaks of water prints
disappearing evasively behind her
She creates art on water
Expressing her easel
Effortlessly…
Painting blue and white across waves of wonder!
She makes moves that marvel
She dances on water
In search of the satin tunnel
Where times stops and echoes
Whisper through the time chamber
imprinting memories forever
Sounds to cherish
And long to recapture
As I wax up my vessel every time
Her bronze hands throw beads of spray
wispy and white
as to cast a spell on hopeless waves tumbling
to shore
unaware of the dissipation
they must suffer as
they fade into the sandy slopes
diagonal to the surface of the Pacific-near the equator-
where energy is transferred instantly millions of times a day
But she is no witch, no curses about her
No barrel with brew
No toe without a ring
Her moves make me marvel
As she dances on water
And, just when you think
She sees you,
she turns around
to catch another wave
With wings outstretched,
she captures the wind
Gliding like a
Like a sail against the Trades
She floats above the surface
Prancing over the lip
Like an aqueous cat
Scaling tin roofs
Slipping side-ways but
Landing on clotheslines
Capturing her feline fantasy
On a whim of a wave
Dispelling the myth that cats
Do not like water…
She carves through cream
Cutting back into the tunnel-deep behind the curtain
Eyes beaming forward, I lean in
Can you see me?
Steam from the large cavern obstructs my view
Suddenly, she appears…
Floating on a white velvet foam ball-momentarily.
She shoots out
A cannonball across the sea
Right past me!
She dances away
Making moves that marvel
About the Creator
Tony Martello
Join an author like no other on various tales that entertain, philosophies that inspire, and lessons that transform us. He is inspired by nature, the ocean, and funny social interactions. He is the author of Flat Spell Tales and much more.
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I enjoyed it a lot!!😍