These are notes, really... There are other layers of thought here trying to get out, but this is stage one... Whether or not I make it further up the mountain to the next poetic encampment with this remains to be seen... I can feel some prose comin on with it! :)) LOL K xx

CASTAWAY


Drifting, alone...

Alone in the bottom
of a rudderless boat,

steadied by lilting tide,
secured by wide-armed embrace
of benevolent sky and unblinking eye
of an ever-watchful sun.

Drifting yet anchored,
moored alongside a shared imagination,
connected to an uncommon fertile bed.

An undercurrent of oyster thought
soothes and rocks my pearly cradle
scooped from rolling waves;

lullaby streams lovingly hover,
kissing my eyes with sleep;

shoaling my thoughts like molten stars
into bursting nets of dreams;

spraying me with a galaxy,
a bubblewrap of seafoam,

rolling me up,

unfurling the sails,

taking me away.