"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Monday, October 28, 2013

What If ...

“O for a life of sensations rather than of thoughts!” ~ John Keats

fills my mind
with the longing
of what if….

My world within
sees your hands
spark the blush
pinking my skin….

But I live in winter
where hands never reach….

 ©Susie Clevenger 2013


Susan said...

Oh! do not live that far north, dear narrator! Move! "What if" is good, but hands have their purposes ...

Bill Nicholls said...

Winter is right over here with the winds we just had

Heidi said...

That is wonderful. I love the longing!

Ella said...

I love yours~ The hints of longing-winter is too soon!

Laura said...

Perhaps we can feel the warmth mitten to mitten?

grapeling said...

Follow the birds and migrate to warmth, Susie :)

humbird said...

Hope your world will be gently touched by the Global Warming :) Much Love

Sherry Blue Sky said...

"I live in winter where hands never reach"........such a poignant line......beautifully written, Susie.

NataĊĦa Dolenc said...

Brilliant! Love it.

Jinksy said...

But if winter comes, can spring be far behind?! LOL

razzamadazzle said...

You've packed a lot into a concise poem. The desire and wishes unfulfilled really reach out.

Mama Zen said...

This is just perfect. Truly beautiful, Susie.

Kerry O'Connor said...

What an excellent spring-board the Keats' quote is. I like the direction your poem took.

Margaret said...

Many people live a whole life "locked within".

Grandmother (Mary) said...

Feel the cold and long...

Jim said...

I love these sort of stories/poems. You did well, Susie. The romantical 'what ifs' that we all have are a part of what fills out minds. I sometimes get lost in thinking about them.

Your poem reminds me of the Osmond song, "Morning Side Of The Mountain":

"There was a girl, there was a boy
If they had met they might have found a world of joy
But he lived on the morning side of the mountain
And she lived on the twilight side of the hill

"They never met, they never kissed
They will never know what happiness they've missed
'Cause he lived on the morningside of the mountain
And she lived on the twilight side of the hill

"For love's a rose that never grows
Without the kiss of the morning dew
And every Jack must have a Jill
To know the thrill of a dream that comes true

Robert Bourne said...

I agree with Susan.. do not live that far North...it is cold and bitter up here... :)

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