
Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
“Swimmer in Yellow” by Gareth Lloyd Ball
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
but there came a day
aquafortis reached up
enveloped my legs
overwhelming my will
undermining my courage
relentless
it pulled at me
carried me
farther and farther
from shores of my birth
into depths unfamiliar
depositing me
in strange waters that maps called
the ocean of
vulnerability
From my books Range of Motion, Music of Scars and Legacies (vol. 1)
“Swimmer in Yellow” by Gareth Lloyd Ball
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
(originally posted April 2013)
Image from pinterest.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
placid glimmerglass sheen
stretched canvas of forest and sky
but I can’t find my youth
in the diurnal scud of the clouds
flying faster and further
from halcyon days in the sun
cooled by frolicsome leaps
with my dog from the dock
diving into the depths of my future
now I sit here in invalid’s pose
on the bench that I built with
my pals sixty summers ago
propped and pained by the
memories clenched in my hands
with a flick of my least impaired
arthritic wrist I give sail to a
perfectly triple-skipped stone
breaking into a smile in excelsis
the waters of faith
fill an uneasy lake
chilled by qualms
cold in underflow
currents churned down
below trustworthy reach
by warm rays of the sun
leaving divers to ponder
one probable truth
the deep end of doubt
sinks to destitute
dark disbelief
near the bottom mud
bristling with indigent
agnostic bones
time was
I could swim like a fish
cut a slice in the sea
beyond the big breakers
cleave cleansing swells
duck into their overwash
finding sublime
exhilaration
my body a blade
honed by timeless tumbles
in granular surf
slashes man-eater schools
daring their frenzy
my brine-tempered eyes
scorn the unholy threat
in their Silurian gaze
black fins form in gauntlets
slide wickedly past
my undeterred strokes
skimming my sides
feeling my fearlessness
heady were those days
when Neptune’s own fluid
coursed in my veins
and mariner ancestors
gathered to watch me
racing the continents
chasing the sun
pride lifting their ghosts
to the billowing blest
Mediterranean
breeze
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
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