To Home

When I look at you;

I think of home.

Memories of twiste surf

and splashing cliffs.

Black rocks mottled with grey

splashes of organic paint.

Soot soul driven

by winds and hurricane.

Driving home in darkness.

Hot lemonade summers;

red with raspberries and cream.

What a lovely dream

it is to look at you.

 

When I think of you;

I look at home.

Coconut coloured eyes,

eyelashes lifting

and drooping

with shy.

Nude pink hills; your hips are

mountains I climb with fingered wishes,

and flowered lilac kisses.

When you smile secret ideas

lift with the lines your glasses

created.

End pecked on your nose

Chocolate threads your hair is knitted;

entertained by your wit.

 

When I look at home; I look at you.

I am there again.

With you.

Reviews

[R J Askew]

I like this one the best of the three you sent me, not because it is more positive than the others, but it feels more coherent and I know where I am...and within the whole it is as if you do also and have the time to add the odd glinty bit. 'splashes of organic paint (seaweed?) And I like the way 'what a lovely dream' links the two lines around it. 'Mountains I climb with fingered wishes' makes me think you may be writing about your mother. I enjoyed this one.

[LilyGrace]

Lovely imagery and use of figurative language. Really nicely written and your feelings are clear - to coin a cliche, the love shines through your words. :)
Nice write.
LGD

[Evil_Angel]

This is beautiful I really have no critiques for it lol. I can tell that you really love the person you wrote this about it shows clearly in the poem. Great job! :)