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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
I sing a soft prayer to my hands -and I wait for them to do something.
-
Exhibit A: When this was first documented, I was more flattering of him than I should of been, but it was another reminder of that star-spe...
-
all is up. a dreamy boy fills your legs with such a torso- he acts like your tongue is hard candy- and the crust in your eyes is cinnamon.
-
Urine and Lilies for Pablo Neruda I had an early love for Walt Whitman. I did. He was not by any means a concrete idol, jutting out over the...
-
as I left the waterfront and I climbed up the sandy stair as always his brothers were first; to greet me. I've had past dealings with th...
-
Jeanie for Robert Frost I added to my Litany of Misdeeds, 8 dollars in my pocket, minted. My little sister had hinted, to bathing naked bene...
-
did someone die, today? most likely. isn't that a difficult thing? was someone born, today? most likely. isn't that a difficult thin...
-
Do you feel like you are ripe at the right old age that you are? Remember when an hour didn't take forever? 6 hours would melt away like...
-
I do not dare be secretive in my art, in my words, I want everything I say to ooze love to all, like a pearl-less oyster onto thirsty sand. ...
-
Winged shoes in flight rarely touch the ground. I have known no one who would rely on a cloud. Cirrus is rarely serious enough. She spills i...
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