a lonesome climb

a dark dream in motion, tip-toeing a winding path with scare

between 

progressive equations - walks along a steep barranca  or  

an excess

of  wild hippy hedgerow 

a bay with cliffs, gossamer green scented by Spanish sugar,

bundled balloons,

fresh fish shimmering, hands fluttering, gulls 

shrieking,

waves tickling childrens' toes ..

a chapel, ancient with dusty echoes of a barn owl's prayers,

far night distant 

from the coastline, back from an argument of all 

about wood and moor,

weed-strewn sands - well known to passing demons ..

a house with a door with crumbling paint,  corroding postbox

rusty unfit

for the future, rooms void of warmth, covers folded,

only

one plate and cup tearfully draining - 

cat mews

a half waking memory making love endless, fragile breath

gasping

hands; knees bound to rest together as if guilty

of what

say you, adventuring minds analytical 

a snug sit on floor, listening to mood music, fingers stroking palms'.. 

cat curls

a lonesome of love, a fuss of relief around.. lips, tongues, tinted 

with rich

red wine robust in vintage urgency

lips ajar, a silken white scarf in hand drips its spirit slowly,

laughing

neither guilt nor preference alter the object in  mind,

oblivion sought

what is, will be, once more..  wait and see 

might innocence lose the game yet again.. patience diluted,

words created

from a language of every day -ologies bequest

because - the mind

wonders if -  after all, it prefers warmth rather than cool

Reviews

[Dara]

You have created a beautiful scene, ripe for nostalgia and hints of moments of a special meeting of mind and body that forever remain tucked away in your box of memories. As always your words touch not only the senses but the hearts and minds of your readers. Simply stunning Emma!

[red93]

Fabulous Emma - so many fascinating aspects to this superb Piece of Work - you take yr Readers to some amazing places as ever. Exceptional ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

[Vol]

Emma,
You remind me that I have removed myself from all that I have ever known. My closest family is over 1200 miles from here, at my age a three day drive. These desert surroundings bear no resemblance to my past lives. I miss the hedge rows of wild roses, the abandoned homes of pioneers on every road, caving in, Trysts in the woods, Oh MY! A bottle of Merlot, shared eye to eye, old enough to question why guilt always haunts, but has lost its power. And the innocent damsel meanders across my mind... out here in the middle of nowhere.
You know, the whole world needs what you havef to offer.
I just finished rereading this one, and it ran through my head like a movie scene... the camera pans a lonely beach long past the time when it was a popular retreat... The few who still visit are few, but their voices echo in the ruins... not unlike an of those past lives I've lived this time around... I have a need of salt water, waves, and liquid turquoise. As usual, your imagery blows through me like a wind...
Vol

[Poetic Beauty]

Oh those moments of finding a secluded spot in which two can discover each other in more intimate ways.

The scenery is vivid and clear in my mind as always you paint stunning imagery of waters cliffs and an house or building that has long since been a place able to live but its a location where prying eyes shall not discover those longing touches.

[emmajoygreen]

Thank you! You've found what I hoped might be found. Although, have I thought of its core as being oblivious of/to the outside world for what I want, need? Times when words run away with fingers. But your interpretation is how I think mine is. Sense?

[Poetic Beauty]

The truth is woven in the details

[Dave W.]

I love your writing, it takes me away from where ever I am, to the world you craft with wonderful prose, this was a joy to read, I was suddenly that lonesome climber, thank you as always for sharing.

[Lorry]

You do paint a picture with your words Emma. I especially like the vintage urgency of your grown up Ribena and the way your words meander perfectly, just like the meander paths of life, except this meander path is a lot more vertical than the usual horizontal ones we usually pass.
It tells of struggle and danger, which after you have enjoyed the view, aren't wllquite over as you still have the descent to contend with.
Just make sure you don't trip over any of those pesky ologies on your descent. 😃
Beautifully captured.

[emmajoygreen]

Many thanks, Lorry. You always find generous things to say about my scribbles. Those -ologies are often used to bemuse-just sometimes they do!

[Lorry]

There sure are a lotofologies to trip over, ain't there?
😃