Humewood Beach

Borrowed the "middle" from a previous write to bridge the beginning of this poem, to its end. Is it okay to steal from one's self? Anyway, seemed like a good fit.

On our secluded beach,

Sangria sings to us as

we await the

rising moon . . . our bodies

glide into each other,

curves chasing shadows . . .  

The tide's expectations tempts

us with its swirling rhythms,

encouraging us, whispering . . .  

Eyes that invite . . .

Lips that hold,

Hips that challenge.  

Lips that invite . . .

Hips that hold,

Eyes that challenge 

Hips that invite . . .

Eyes that hold,

Lips that challenge. 

Temptation triumphs,

curves melting into shadows . . .

the possibilities, like the

moon and tides . . . endless.

Copyright ©

C. M. Miller

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

So, you copied and pasted from another poem, who hasn't in the face of writer's block? Only one suggestion here, put a "d" on the word seclude.

I really liked the middle of this, how you reversed and repeated the lines. It's truly the heart of the piece. And the ending, it fits like a glove!

Bravo, my good, good friend! [I am standing up, applauding you...here's a virtual bouquet I am throwing at your feet...quick, catch it!] x