Wednesday, August 13, 2008

3WW: Intimate, River, Waiting

Intimate River Waiting
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She’d always heard
that love was a river,

that the more intimate
you became with its depths

the easier you could drown.
So, she avoided the whirlpools

and stayed close to shore.
She didn’t know a waterfall

was waiting around the bend.
It catapulted her over the edge

and into the churning arms
of wet, wild, wonderful lust.

Then she lost herself
and died while the river

continued on, searching
for new victims.

10 comments:

  1. Wow....the first part of this poem is me....Although I haven't hit the waterfall yet! You are my favorite poet on line!! Really wonderful work!

    Hugs Giggles

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  2. Fear often leads the way from an imagined frying pan to a real fire. Nicely done. I do enjoy coming here on Wednesdays.

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  3. Oh, this is wonderfully well written.

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  4. oh this is great.. i feel like i have been her... i am happy knowing i have known that kind of love...

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  5. That sent a shiver through me. Well done!

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  6. linda, that is one of the most beautiful poems about a river i've ever read..yes, i'd die a thousand times and more for those churning arms.. better to have lived and die then to die and not live.. yes, no

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  7. I really like that you played on a cliche and ended up with a good poem.

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  8. I agree with Pam. Well done. Such an interesting turn at the end.

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  9. wow... very nice...

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  10. awesome - a modern day myth, that
    waits for us all.

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Please visit Totally Optional Prompts each Sunday for a prompt and return on Thursday to add a link to whatever you've written.