I am fifteen, you are sixteen.
Sand sizzles under red-ringed sun
Golden white caps, sea’s cyan sheen.
We laugh. We kiss. We are as one.
Our troth is for eternity
I am fifteen, you are sixteen.
Eros chases Venus, “Catch me”.
Our sand-clad love is pure and clean.
We close our web, no space between
Our fingers touch, cry out, “Take me.”
I am fifteen, you are sixteen.
No time for thought, validity.
The sea turns grey, white caps to ice.
Our passion filled, the future seen.
No longer young, we’ve paid a price.
I am fifteen, you are sixteen.
(Written for dVerse Poets, Open Link Night. September 3, 2013.)
vb's reverbs 
This is quite powerful. Love that is has the rolling tidal power of the quatrain.
Ah, youth! A headlong time. This works the form and content so craftily; the refrain works to layer or unlayer– to reverberate with irony. Well done. K. This is Karin of Manicddaily.
Ps I say that because am on phone and sometimes it uses an old blogger ID.
No longer young, we’ve paid a price.
Ironic we pay that price not prior to or during but when it is all gone.
That last verse reminds me of the fairy tales where once the apple is bitten (or whatever the metaphor), innocence is gone and the realization that it can never be gotten back are instantaneous. That there is a price to be paid is something most people done want to acknowledge, yet the price is already set.
janet
Eros chases Venus, “Catch me”, ha cool line….and we def dont think of the price at that age and let our passions and emotions get the best of us at times…..
very nice VB – when young we wish as though we could change all things to bend to our desires. Alas for the grittiness of sand.
This brought up a lot of memories. Back then we did think it would last forever.I like how you wove in the beach metaphorically.
ah yes – young love – wild and passionate and in the moment… and who thinks about the future or the price you might have to pay.. def. brought back some memories
How easily we delude ourselves when we are young, always pointing to the exception rather than the norm for teenage romances. How hard we take it when we discover that our love is not the exception after all; that (s)he has feet of clay. And how quickly most of us recover too – unless our actions have had consequences that we convinced ourselves couldn’t happen to us.
Ah yes, young love. Live for the moment, and enjoy what is!! You captured a universal truth in your poem, I think.
Oh that swetness of love of being young.. a well choosen returning line, with subtle means changed it’s meaning… It made me warm in side from a nostalgia I probably never experienced….
You have portrayed young and carefree love in a lovely manner!
It seems a powerfully optimistic ending to me…staying 15 and 16 that IS…
I think you’ve chosen a terrific form for this. How fleeting life is, yet so much fun while young.
I am 15 you 16. That’s a memory itch. Well done.>KB
The contradiction of sand sizzling and sand-clad love pure and clean. Once the line is crossed, it’s not the same love. You expressed this well.
I will attest that love at 15 and 16 can certainly rob youth…. But your description of that is much more beautiful than the stark reality of it… A very pleasant read, though I would be tempted to add eery funeral bells in the distant lightning-laced sky, a flurry of bats chasing the church belfry as the wedding-doors creaked to the sound of an old pine casket lid opening… Po- tate- oh, po – tah – to….. Excellent read fellow poet……..
…how aptly demonstrated that point of no return…. great one… loved it… smiles…
I loved this, it just gave off this feeling I can’t describe (some poet I am huh?). You had me from the vividness of the opening and kept me. thanks for sharing this!
beautiful expression of youth playing at love and the precious price, the loss of innoncence
Playful, pleasant summer turns to a tumultuous fall and an icy winterafter. But the consequences are never clear – what seem like mistakes may in fact turn out to be a master plan – see “Sliding Doors”.