I drank you in—
swam in your
oceans
dove to your
depths
kicked to your
surface.
I inhaled cerulean—
tasted salt on my
tongue
embraced gritty
warmth
wrapped myself in a
crashing caress.
You were
infinite—
until your finiteness.
~Pamela
Tag Archives: prose
Home
she once thought his face
brought her home to sun
speckled shadows that
cooled her and white-hot
blazes that burned within
one glance and her lungs
began drowning in moist
humidity gasping for
the slightest whisp of breeze
coming off the Atlantic
she looked away her home
wasn’t just stifling heat and
scorching sunshine it was
also diving into cerulean and
inhaling freshly cut emeralds
her home welcomed her
his face turned her out
her home comforted her
his face was vacant a
sign that read For Rent
© Pamela Rossow
In the Arms of Morpheus
Her arms gathered sunrises close
to her, luring in welcomed heat
and searing passions, crimson clouds
and afterglow.
Her arms swept galaxies close
to her, drawing in crescent moons
and silver shadows, indigo skies
and Orion.
Her arms cajoled him move close
to me, beguiling with silken skin
and trailing fingers, entwined in
Morpheus.
© Pamela Rossow
Ornament
An ornament upon
my tree you are-
not.
More like ice crystals
stinging and bitter cold,
a biting wind tearing
through a flimsy sweater,
jagged pieces of snow
globes broken, stabbing.
An ornament upon
my tree you are-
not.
© Pamela Rossow
Young Love
young love
blooms
shedding petals
Ode to Olive Oil
golden rivulets pool
glinting an autumnal
haze making it
difficult to see
anything but amber
apparitions
© Pamela Rossow
Ablaze
This poem was inspired by the photograph below of a person who happens to be an artist, dreamer, photographer, blogger, motivator and friend. Her self-photo has a golden quality to it and this poem is the result. Now check our her blog at Dangerous Linda. Go on, skeddadle.
Ablaze
she was not content to live in
shadow
as pearls do hidden
away until their luminescent
reveal
she was light so much so that
ordinary
could not surround her
one flaxen glance and it blazed
away
she bathed in brilliance arms wide to
embrace
the ritual cascade golden rivulets of
honey and shining flecks of
wheat
she even dreamt in goldenrod while
moons
of harvest trailed her heart’s flights
keeping the dark at
bay
© Pamela Rossow
Violet
you came to me in
autumn
violet flowers in
hand weeping
petals
Blue Black
What he couldn’t say in
words he still said with his
lips, hovering over her heart
pounding out rhythms in
E C D E F E C.
He skimmed near closed
eyelids that dreamt in liquid blue-
he and she bathed in midnight,
feeling their way along pebbled shores,
staying far from the warmth and false
security of sandbars, away from the
blue black where they once treaded
ice water, going under when swells
broke over them.
He toyed near ears
open, waiting for
exhalations of loving
breath filled with abandon,
minus “ment.”
He searched her intently,
diving then coming up for
air, thinking he’d find the
solace he sought, believing
she secreted away his
talisman somewhere in her
deep curves and gentle
illumination, that she held an
amulet to heal his blue black.
He realized too late she did not
hide the magical powers he
sought to soothe him, to bind
the darkness that plagued
him, bruised him, tormented him.
He pulled away seeking, travelling
past the pebbled beach’s gleam and
sandbars warm till he caught a wave,
riding the blue black till he became no
more than a dark spot on the horizon.
© Pamela Rossow
Beach
Hesitant lips
await—
jasmine scented
nights
and warm sand
by mangroves
tangled.
© Pamela Rossow
