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. . .
-
husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
-
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
-
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...
-
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...
-
To my fellow poets, for William Shakespeare Discredit all that you will read about me. Treasonous hands have bestowed difficult words which ...
-
I was just awarded the Perfect Poet Award from Promising Poet's Cafe/Jingle Poetry. I'm excited, I want to nominate everybody but I...
-
I was just awarded the Stylish Blogger Award! (awarded by John Evans ) I was asked to write 7 things about myself,and to award 10 ot...
-
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
-
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...
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
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