Here There Be Dragons

   Photo by Mary Bach

I hunger for

the salt of oceans,

warm winds

and the call of sea birds;

to stand at the shore,

caress the waves,

to reach across

the water

where there be dragons.

     Image from patheos.com

Mama Zen at the Real Garden with Imaginary Toads asked us to tell what we hungered for in 60 words or less. 

The Art and Science of Desire

     Image: medanth.wikispaces.com

It seems my want

has a half-life.

No matter

how long you are gone

there is still

some longing left.

And with even

the smallest bit

I can reconstitute it,

whole,

like a geneticist

reconstructing

the now redundant

Dodo

from a tiny strand

of DNA;

despite the Law 

of Diminishing Returns.


This, of course, is for G-man and his final FF55.  Thank you for all the great Fridays that turned into kick-ass weekends.   We all love ya, and we miss ya already Galen!

Low Tide

    Image from maleksadeghi.com

Monochrome sunset staining the sky

is bad news for sailors and lovers and others

who turn a blind eye to the east.

Driftwood and feathers and tumbled stones

that nobody else will see

wait for the sun, and for you my love

as you wait, as you wait

for me.

So go to the shore

and gather my petticoats

frothy and studded with salt.

Walk into the waves and

feel their embrace

as you wait, as you wait

for me.

This is for NaPoWritMo, and is driving me crazy.  I think the cadence drifted a bit, but I'm running out of day #3!  And I guess I'm linking it to nowhere - so please look for it on Facebook and Google+

Missing

Your absence

is a very real taste

on the back of my tongue,

a heaviness

stooping my shoulders,

pressing on my solar plexus.

Filling my lungs

is such hard work.

My chest echoes,

empty.

This is in response to the prompt: longing, loss, losing and failure at Gooseberry Garden, although I was a too late to link it to their site.