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Page 20 of 21
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April 2010:
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The Lovers
The golden sands stretch empty for miles and miles each way
and they reach out to the oceans sweet embrace.
Tendrils of sea grass lie scattered along the empty shore
like tresses of windblown hair against your face.
The cresting surf, topped with white foam
races to shore to welcome home
the one who walks its shores alone
It meets feet, like lovers greet, warm and embracing.
There are pink clouds drifting in the sky, today they're barely moving
and slowly they change shape as they drift by.
Marshmallow clouds now hide the sun, its rays beneath them peep
and images are forming in the sky.
Two lovers gaze into each others eyes or so it seems
she lifts her face towards him. Is he the man of her dreams
He reaches for her tenderly. Enhanced by bright sunbeams.
Two cloud lovers, mistily each other facing.
The ebb and flow of tide tumbles small shells onto the shore
and a pair of Dolphins surf out in the waves.
The walker strolls along the sands, just enjoying the day
is it silence, solitude or peace he craves.
The aqua waters of the sea are topped with foaming lace.
Spumescent whipped cream waters, where two lovers embrace.
Is it Neptune and a Mermaid? He cannot see their face
as they disappear beneath the waters racing.
The rocky headlands guard the bay their face dark and imposing
and the waters froth and bubble at their feet.
The golden sands stretch endlessly, in little hills and furrows
a demarcation line where land and waters meet.
And down the hill comes a small child, running fast to meet her
Daddy with her arms outstretched, she calls in a voice sweet
"Lets go and have a paddle Daddy the sand burnt my feet"
and the tide is busy now footprints erasing.
And sometimes we are lovers, and sometimes only friends.
Parents, sisters, brothers but always at the end there
will be those who loved us and loving never ends
though the footprints and the visions may be fading.
(Inspired by The Amazing Art of Salvatore Dali)
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.......by Maureen Clifford @ 04/10
Judge's Comments:
The poem is full of imagery, but it is not just a static picture; much is happening. There is a very effective simile -
"Tendrils of sea grass lie scattered along the empty shore
like tresses of windblown hair against your face."
and good personification
"The cresting surf, topped with white foam
races to shore to welcome home
the one who walks its shores alone"
The rhyming pattern is pleasing, the rhythm never falters, and the final lines bring the poem to a good closure, leaving the reader with something to think about. A very successful poem. Well done! ........................... Dreamweaver
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May 2010:
Long Ago Friend
What's with this roadhouse thing
I asked my friend I had just met.
It's a place for travellers to
get a beer, a bite to eat,
he said in his heavy brogue.
You don't know this,
you've much to learn,
you surely are slow.
Come ride with me,
I'm an old hand, I'll teach you
what you don't know,
of carousing men and
beautiful maids,
we'll do a roadhouse show.
I learned a lot from
my down under friend,
he advanced me on many fronts.
Together we made whoopee, till one day
he shattered a bone. He
was medivaced off, and left me
out there on this country road.
I've thought of him often,
did he finally get home, did
he spend out his years with
loved ones and kin?
There are times when in a tavern
or some bar-room,
I hear his voice again
telling me to drink my beer slowly
and not too much
and I wonder how he's been.
This man I met so long ago,
my down under Aussie friend.
............. by Hawkeye
Judge's comments:
An interesting title and a good conversational opening. Beer/bite/brogue is anice alliterative touch and I like the echo of 'you' in.
"You don't know this,
you've much to learn,
you surely are slow."
Action is shown and the poem progresses as it tells its story, but there ismore than the story; there is thoughtful pondering. The last lines have good cadences, and round the poem off well.
"This man I met so long ago,
my down under Aussie friend."
Well done, Hawkeye...............Dreamweaver
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June 2010:
For the month of June we decided to award the winning entry to a Silver Scribe submission. Our judge did find the short entry very interesting and hopefully you will agree with the verdict.
Raising Tommy
Tommy inherited an aunt. When he was six years old and his mother was off with a man as addicted to drugs as she was, his father couldn't cope. So Tommy went to live with Auntie May.
'In this life you have to be of some use,' she’d say, while packing apple slices for delivery to those less fortunate. Addicted to helping, she was, and made sure Tommy was set on that path too.
‘You should…’ were words that echoed in his dreams, both then and many years after she had gone to her 'reward', whatever that was.
Warm smells of nutmeg and of apple would drift from her kitchen through the whole house, and there was always a piece of apple slice for Tommy. One piece.
'Just one piece for you, I’ll go without.’ Going without was the grown-up thing to do, Tommy quickly learned. She was his role model.
At night he would watch her knitting, always knitting. Gloves, scarves and beanies she produced endlessly, all for the charity stall; not for Tommy. His clothes she bought second hand.
For Tommy there were no toys, no games. And just like her, no friends!
..............by Thomas Baker
Judge's comments:
Interesting short piece about a deserted boy who inherits an aunt… and nothing else. To teach him the value of frugality, she denies him anything beyond subsistence. He isn’t even allowed a piece of pie that doesn’t have strings of guilt attached.
It’s essentially a character study of the aunt; not a lot of story content and it leaves a lot implied, but it sets up a premise that stays with the reader and makes you wonder what sort of adult this boy will become.
.......... Ian
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