Poetry From The Heart
Ripples wrinkle across the lake
the moon swallows the blackness
shadows spoof at the water’s edge
stillness is frozen and eerie
his touch is warm and enticing
Mother said, “Don’t go near the water.”
Our lips meet to an arousal …
intense and hot-blooded sensations
rocking canoe triggers waves
edginess converts to apathy.
He senses my fear…
pulls ashore into the darkness.
I’m not a swimmer…won’t admit it
panic in bottomless liquid
stuck in the middle of love
refuse to confess my fear
bobbing up and down in stream
Mother said, “Don’t go near the water.”
Gulp in the runny, strangle …
guzzle, swig, swallow and choke
spoken words forgotten not adhered to
danger followed to deaf ears
screams go unheard as perils loom
Mother’s voice echoes in my mind.
Mother’s voice echoes…
Barbara Kasey Smith is the writer of this poem – Copyright 2014 – Use by Permission Only.