I gaze at the clouds
Rolling over me
Like giant breakers
In a turbulent sea.
As I fear the waters
Of the oceans
Of the rivers
Of the sky.
My skin crawls at the memory
Bearing down upon my ship
My love falling into the sea.
The clouds pass
The vision fades.
I retreat to the safety of my home
For another day
To join my love.
(Inspired by Stacy Plowright’s “Clouds in Toronto“, madison-woods.com, Friday Fictioneers, August 31, 2012.)
Creative imagery casting the clouds as water of the sea
Very nice and vivid. Mine is here
Very fitting piece for the picture. Nicely done.
comparing clouds to waves…great concept
Nice imagery. A bit dark, but everyone seems to be seeing the photo that way.
Excellent use of the verbs “bearing down” and “striking” and “flying” — they really characterize the elements of the weather.
I love the opening sentence and how you used the three different places with water.
I thought of my own father, still lost after losing his wife of 54 years. I know he is just waiting to leave, to be with her again, Well done,
I think Luke in my story could have written this poem. Heartfelt emotion.
Love”…I fear the waters of the oceans of the rivers of the sky”. A powerful tale.
You paint a beautiful picture!
Memory is hard sometimes. Perhaps it would be better for us all to have less of it. Strange to think how that would work and what our world would be like in that event.
Lovely story. Evocative, sad and rife with longing.
Very nice take on the great photo prompt.
Here’s mine: http://unexpectedpaths.com/friday-fictioneers/for-the-world-is-hollow/
A lovely poem, though a touch sad. Mine is here: http://readinpleasure.wordpress.com/2012/08/31/friday-fictioneers-harmattan-rain/
It reminded me a lot of Rochelle’s story. Great minds do think alike.
Beautiful. Reminds me a little of Hamlet –
“take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them…
To die to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream.”
I’d love to know whether you were thinking of Hamlet, or if it came through all by itself (as these things sometimes do)?
Sigh. I love the imagery in the poem, but I love the story even better, especially the end.