The Picnic

I saw the panic in his eyes

the golden picnic rug he lay for me is fraying

cracking under the heat of the midday sun

champagne flutes still empty

magnifying the intensity

he chose a beautiful spot on the hill

I couldn't hear the traffic from the town below

only the soft muttering of awakening birds 

nestling in nearby branches

bees came whispering past us making their way

to the poppy fields

sheets of red bordered by fluffy green trees

and the blue skies over head brought

a sun kiss to my cheeks

a magnificent daze to my mind 

and a fluid telescope of colours to my eyes 

but the blanket is not as soft as it appeared

as I take my seat it hardens underneath me

as when the lake is graced by the talons of Mr Jack Frost

and I can no longer run my fingers through the tassels

without the knots coming undone

I saw the panic in his eyes

the picnic was so beautiful

I wore my sunshine yellow dress 

tan sandals and my wicker basket 

I had visions of filling with wild flowers

pine cones

daisy chains 

and whatever else we might find

toenails painted pink - his favourite colour on me

and the bracelet he bought me for my birthday

knew it suddenly repulsed me

and braced itself under the protection

of the broadness of the flute 

I saw the panic in his eyes

as he saw I had realised 

that he had lied 

and I'll no longer be able to run my fingers through the tassels

without the knots coming undone

Reviews

[barleygirl]

A wicked journey between what 2 people ACKNOWLEDGE to be their present pretty moment, & how there can be another hidden narrative much darker beneath all the pretty trappings of whatever traditional stuff is happening, with everything appearing "normal" or at least predictable. I love how the tone of your poem starts out giving us many clues -- this isn't your everyday happy picnic, yet there's a little doubt, the reader thinking this could go in a more positive direction. But in the end, there are too many ugly wounds being disguised by ribbons & bows on the picnic basket. Great symbolism in your vivid details (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Laura Kate]

Thank you for your wonderful feedback, Margie. Right you are, that there is a space between what is acknowledged to be real, and what is in fact reality. Even spaces can't be ignored! Thank you, and Happy New Year!

[DigiSajilo]

wow that's amazing brother A poem on that topic which is very popular in youngster

[Laura Kate]

Thanks, Digi. Nice to meet you!

[Chris Shaw]

Your picnic did not turn out to be as promising as you wished. Your romantic thoughts seem to have encountered some unexpected darkness and the loveliness of the occasion turned ugly. Descriptive writing, and goes to show that all that at first glitters is not gold. I feel sure, others will be able to relate to similar experiences. Well conveyed Loubelle.

Chris

[Laura Kate]

Thank you, Chris. It's lovely to read your comments, as always!
Laura.

[Chris Shaw]

Belated happy new year Laura:)

[Danny Metcalfe]

I like the symbolism in the poem. The end of the poem is very nice too. :)

[Laura Kate]

Thank you, Danny. I look forward to visiting your page

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing journey in these words. I felt the panic and struggle dear Lou Belle. The heart knows first and the pain become a hurricane of emotions felt. I liked the drive of the words. The reader understood the situation and thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Laura Kate]

Thank you Coyote, it's great to read your feedback. I'm happy that you enjoyed this journey. Best wishes,
Laura.

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the poem and you are welcome dear LouBelle.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Lies cause every knot of love to come undone.
And even if we retie the knots...the trust is so frayed that the rope will too easily break again.

[Laura Kate]

I believe that the heart loses a little strength with every knot that frays! Thank you, Jacob.