Prolonged Immersion
Rebuke, or pity? Spurning all life-skill guides,
oblivious to shellfish jaws and stings that leave
sure swimmers keeling, she dived young, keen to prise,
eviscerate and string the seeds.
The first heave
mesmerised. The seven sea-tentacles unfurled,
artful to drag her down. The laden wrecks
rebuffed her questing hands.
The glass-green swirl
yawed, paused and shifted her past hope of land.
Meshed with slow swells she grins and glides,
adrift on moon-drugged tides, which at their flood
roll, roll her shorewards, till brine cold rhythms guide
this prisoner from deeps misunderstood.
In the sea's time, formless remains are hurled
naked, flesh gorged by seabirds, spent, unpearled.
Jessica seeks poems relating to the sea, swimming etc.
The first three lines get it off to a splendid start, but hen come many other good things. A very enjoyable read.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading this. I felt I was drawn in by the waves with your words.
ReplyDeleteIt's a beautiful poem - but I'm having trouble catching my breath imagining her end. Gulp! Couldn't listen to her elders, could she. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteI've already drowned in sympathy! Talk about plumbing the ocean depths...
ReplyDeleteA most beautiful yet tragic sonnet, fluid as the ocean
ReplyDeleteWow, Richard, that stilled my day. Thank you.
ReplyDeletedynamic write.
ReplyDeletemasterful skill.
keep it coming.