Tickling toes-
there was something about
that barefooted madness
something about that wistful
waist-high wishing and wooshing
in the woods,
Running to the water,
Running from the sand.
One always dreams of brighter skies
when toes are tickled-
but when hitting the water-
one always feels they
are just a blade of grass.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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I thought it would be fitting to do an original of mine, but one of it's earlier drafts. I have recently reworked this poem so it includ...
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stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
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The Opera The eyes of the firing-squad are aimed with lashed cross-hairs for now we, the chorus, all look like oiled up black ducks in a ro...
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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The one day that I am home sick is the one day that everyone goes on a balloon ride. Just my luck. You know, it's funny how they always ...
Even i like my toes being tickled by grass. It's a pleasurable sensation. Well written.
ReplyDeleteAlways pleased to read your work, always much more than "just" a blade of grass. Nicely written indeed.
ReplyDeleteWhen you truly do feel nature, you realise just what a marvel it all really is.
ReplyDeleteLovely!
The feel of the grass on bare feet seemingly ticklish tells me of the reality of life. It touches on and signals 'feel' directly to the person. Great!
ReplyDeleteWouldn't the world be wonderful if we could go about barefoot everywhere within it? Nice one!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful metaphor!
ReplyDeletePerfect tone...fun, and sweet.
ReplyDeleteNicely done, I love the 'barefooted madness'. :-)
ReplyDeleteAmy, loved your barefooted feel of the entire poem, the abandon with which you wrote. Sand, grass, ground... hell, even gravel I do barefoot! But nature is the best place to hang one's tootsies. Here is my Grass poem:
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/07/28/grass/
Peace and a run through the blades, Amy
aw crap - that means i left my comment on the wrong entry before! anyway, this is a very relaxing piece, neatly put together as always.
ReplyDeletenow, where was i - oh yeah, cards? cluedo? coffee?
*hands them around and glances over at the distant gates of lj*
looks like rain i see...
This is quite lovely - with a feeling wistful joy...bkm
ReplyDeletewow, thanks to all my friends who posted!! you are all lovely people.
ReplyDeleteI kind of went that carefree way! I loved you added the tall grass and grit!
ReplyDeleteWritten with a light and airy grace worthy of a subject dependant on light and air.
ReplyDeletealliteration!! :) x
ReplyDeleteyay! lol
ReplyDelete