Footprints in the Sand

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Casting off her sleek brown pelt (but holding it close), she rises from the surf. No goddess, though men will be drawn to her, despite–or perhaps because of–her otherworldliness. Through the waves, she walks, clumsily at first, as she adjusts to two legs and to being upright. The world looks different to her now. It feels different, too. The air is cool against her skin; the breeze dances across the new womanly curves of her body. She steps onto the beach, eager to embrace this life, if only temporarily, leaving footprints in the sand. The sea covers and takes them, keeping a trace of her to hold in its depths till she returns to it. And she will.

 

I’m late, but this is for Frank’s Footprints in the Sand challenge.    

Another selkie story–because, well, selkies.

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The Moon and the Sea: Magnetic Poetry

 

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Moon needs music,

recalling in honey’d language

like smooth chocolate

the sea symphony she wants still,

watching with sweet crush

shining beauty from above,

over dreams–

there–

in purple shadow time

 

Guillermo Gómez Gil, “Moonrise,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia CommonsGuillermo_Gómez_Gil_-_Salida_de_la_luna

 

 

A poem for the full moon. The Oracle was not in the mood for poetry yesterday, but she came through today.

 

Dawn is Waking: A Ghazal

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John La Farge, “The Dawn,” 1899, Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University, Public Domain, Wikipedia

 

 

From the sea, in golden robes, from dark night, dawn is waking

Rubbing sleep from rosy cheek, from moonlight, dawn is waking.

 

Robin sings a morning trill, acolyte, as light is breaking

Cats yawn and stretch, then bathe, with bird in sight, as dawn is waking

 

Tides flow and ebb, leave crabs and water sprite, along the beaches

Gulls swoop to capture them, in raucous flight, as dawn is waking

 

And the woman and the man, what of them when light first rises

Seeking warmth, seeking love, embracing tight, when dawn is waking?

 

Smiths of words, with pen in hand, come to light, in morning’s quiet

Waiting for inspiration, for love, write, as dawn is waking.

 

Jane gave us quite a challenge this week in her poetry challenge.  This is my first attempt at a ghazal. You can read how to write one here. Or more here.

The prompt was the painting above, “The Dawn,” by John La Farge.