A Southern shore count for lost
Your look of ease just mine has crossed
A big warm wave is rolling in
Passing me
This certain scent of freckled skin
Like a painting hanging in the perfect light
Your eyes are twinkling in the sun
Sensual and wild
Remembering you from depth of time
Out of blue light with waft of salt and thyme
In the shine of a late noonβs blaze
A waving strand of hair
Gently tracing your face
Like a painting hanging in the perfect light
Aflamed with distant noises
Sensual and wild
Just an idea of a sandy shade
Over your cheekbones
Is flitting to fade
Silence told from your freckled lips
So sad
We never met in Biarritz
Like a painting hanging in the perfect light
Big brown eyes have drowned me
So sensual and wild
(by Anja Tintagol)
Thank you, AnneMarie, for loading up π I think I must explain a little bit. The poem is an inspiration of Zac’s pic and memories of a holiday which I spent on French Atlantic coast. The interaction of sunlight, a lost shore and the face of someone dear. I saw lots of galeries there with beautiful shining paintings and I asked myself if they also would look so nice if they would hang in my flat π BTW this was the second poem I wrote at all.
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To be honest I am not actually sure if Zac was freckled at all. But it seems a little bit.
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Wow, this is brilliant β€οΈ Why you needed to encourage I don’t know!! I can imagine he’s at Biarritz….
Poem shows us each other how we miss him or adore him, and how we think of him In different ways sometimes. It’s very interesting indeed.
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thank you β€ But I am a bit amazed that the "hair" theme had such a meaning for both of us π
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We both tricked his hair I guess π
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Thanks both of you for sharing poem about Zac. It’s a very nice poem Anja. “Sensual and Wild” pictured perfectly my thoughts about Mr. Foley.
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thank you β€ Those three words are actually a bit inspired by a song which I love very much, which is called "Beautiful and Wild". But I did not want to use exactly the same words and I found that "sensual and wild" fits much better anyway π
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