WISHFUL, YOUNG DREAMERS – PROMPT #20
Photo by Walter J. Wojtanik
The prompt for Week 20 is based on this photograph. Could be a love poem, a dream sequence, a wishful moment, a memory. Whatever the photo says to you will paint this portrait in words.
Walt’s Vision:
UPON THE LAKE OF WISHFUL DREAMS
Stretched out like a future bright
and promising, young love rapt
in wishful dreams. Hopes for a life
ripe for the picking hang seductively
within reach. She is headstrong
and determined, a beauty in style,
her demeanor reeks of compassion
and an eye for fashion that augments
nature’s handiwork. He, a young man
doubtful, but very giving and loving,
a handsome lout, dark and chiseled,
charged and ready for action.
A class act in her eyes and heart.
Their vision focused, futures joined in unison
adrift upon the lake of wishful dreams.
TIME FOR MARIE ELENA
We watch the sun set
Our love stealing away time
We watch the sun rise
As an “Aside,” Robert Lee Brewer of The Writer’s Digest Poetic Asides has invited poetry in remembrance of 9/11. We encourage you to visit to read, and perhaps write: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/10-years-of-911-poetry#comment-90775 .
Deus Ex Machina
“Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae.” ~Virgil (The Aeneid)
By chance, I saw you on the street,
still full of self, with much conceit
and still the same as you once were.
I thought I might try to avoid
you, but you saw me. That destroyed
any thought I had, dear sir,
of getting through this life of mine
without you. Still, I would not pine
but pray these run-ins won’t recur.
###
Note: I wrote this poem from a Dorothy Parker perspective, which means the inverse intention should probably be assumed here. ☼
RJ, I did your cynicism and picked up on the Parker vibe. I also had an alternative viewpoint on the situation, posted below… Amer
You’ve destroyed the romance for me! But with a very cleverly written poem!
No romance but an enjoyable read 🙂
I don’t think I’m enough of a romantic to write to this prompt – though somehow RJ’s poem could be described as cynical!
Walt, is there a different meaning in America for the word lout? In UK English a lout is a vulgar youth, a yob, stupid and probably violent, none of which seems to fit the image the rest of your poem creates.
Marie, Your senryu is a delightful interpretation of the photo.
Viv, noted. But the young man started out a lout, but couldn’t be anymore of a gentleman to me or my daughter there in the photo.
Nice RJ.
Glad you could make an appearance, meg.
ME – your poem was lovely! Walt – thanks for the explanation. That puts a whole different spin on your marvelous, honest poem.
As for my snarky take on the prompt, it was meant in fun. I’m generally not as cynical as one might think, but I had a slumber party at my house last night, so I was reading DP to maintain my sanity.
This is your daughter, Walt? You didn’t tell me that. LOVELY!
meg
Ooops, did I say that? I didn’t want to sway the work of the masses by divulging that fact, and I did first shot out of the box. The poetry is inherent in this photo. It could be anyone. Besides, you left off the “AND TALENTED”. She goes by “THE LOVELY AND TALENTED, Walt’s daughter.”
Lovely and Talented. Got it! 😉 And who might the talented photographer be?
RJ, I LOVED your snark!
BERWIND LAKE REVISITED
If I could, I would name all of these flowers,
Say which trees end before tall times begin,
What starts the ducks to quack on Berwind Lake,
Be privy to the secrets insects tell,
And ride within an empty cellophane bag
That sails its crinkled shape upon the lake.
Today, like last year, and again the year before,
We sat here at our familiar picnic
Place of stone and wood,
Witnesses to a West Virginia June
Where nature plays out its green again,
And the bridge, like a wooden rainbow,
Spans the lake between the roadside and the wild.
Here we are once more– the two of us
Still locked in life’s embrace– same time, same place,
Our love like seasons renewed, yet changeless
Like this summer scene on Berwind Lake.
#
This is just lovely 🙂
This is fine, Sal.
Sal, this is so personal, so real… lovely take on the prompt. Especially liked the bridge as rainbow. Amy
I love this, and wish I could have written it!
This is beautifully written with wonderful visuals. Very romantic 🙂
“Wistful Reverie on an Afternoon”
A breeze whispers through the
Trees. I think I’d like to
Fly away. Surely tree-top
Conversations are much more
Pleasant than anything to be
Had in a fancy restaurant
Full of towel-armed waiters?
Ripples lap at the shore line, stealing
Pebbles. I think I’d rather grow
Gills and dive, deep down to a
Place where words don’t
Exist and we’d just shake fins and smile.
Wonderful imagery. In My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss he writes, “Cool and quiet fish, that’s me.” The second stanza reminds me of that line.
Wonderful imagery and an interesting take on the prompt 🙂
Romance
As they cuddle there
by the lake
to the tune of crickets,
gentle lapping waves,
and quacking ducks,
he thinks of the stars in her eyes,
her soft, silky shoulders
the glistening of her dark hair, not
her nagging him to take out the trash,
pantyhose hanging on the curtain rod
or PMS.
She thinks of his deep, baby blues,
the strength of his shoulders,
the warmth of his body against hers, not
Monday night football games,
belches in front of company
shoes to underwear scattered
throughout the house.
That’s why, my dear children,
there’s such thing as
commitment.
This one really resonates with me. Great poem!
Man, Connie, you have married life nailed! It’s true, we overlook the dirty socks and other stuff when we’re truly in love.
I know this because my hubby is having a baseline colonoscopy in the morning, and he was a grump all night… so I gave him extra hugs before he went to sleep early! Amy
Connie, you get a huge AMEN to commitment! =)
meg
This is what a poem needs to be – telling it like it is rather than wrapping it in fancy words and phoney ribbons.
Well said 🙂
Pingback: Wishful, Young Dreamers (a haiku) « echoes from the silence
on the shore of dreams
anticipating ripples
their lives will create
Here’s a link to the poem on my blog, as well:
http://whenwordsescape.wordpress.com/2011/09/11/wishful-young-dreamers-a-haiku/
~Paula
So much in so few words…. 🙂
Ditto to what Nikki said.
Thanks, Ladies! 🙂
Nikki, yes, our lives do create ripples, and the lakeside view was the perfect place for contemplating that! Amy
yes. yes.
Awesome haiku 🙂
A poem for two voices
Proposal
In your arms I melt.
My heartbeat quickens from your touch.
It’s hard to concentrate on the view, It’s hard to concentrate on the view,
when I lean my head into you.
as your scent drifts in the breeze.
I feel alive and free, our love is meant to be. I feel alive and free, our love is meant to be.
I could stay here all night long, listening to
the birds’ love song.
I could hold you all night long and forever
wouldn’t be too long.
By your side is where I always want to be. By your side is where I always want to be.
Are you saying what I think you mean?
If you would be so kind to take my hand,
I’d love to marry you. I’d love to marry you.
Forever and ever, I do. Forever and ever, I do.
I read this on your blog Shannon. I like the two voices…very creative 🙂
It didn’t format…..so it makes no sense.
Mine was a 2 voice piece too that didn’t format quite how I’d imagined it…grr…..but I get your idea and it’s a lovely one 😉
http://shannonlockard.blogspot.com/2011/09/proposal-poem-for-two-voices.html
To see my two voice poem, go to my site. I had to save it as a picture and upload it to keep the formatting.
Shivering
(An octain refrain)
Sometimes there isn’t a sunset
No matter how long we sit here
Shivering as the night draws near.
Sometimes the only hope we get
Facing the cost of all that’s lost
Is in someone we’ve barely met
A chest to which we breathe our fear.
Sometimes there isn’t a sunset.
I love that line, “Sometimes there isn’t a sunset.”
Andrew, this was a haunting take on the picture, very inventive. “A chest to which we breathe our fear… sometimes there isn’t a sunset. Very realistic view of life! Amy
I love this! Well written and so true…sometimes there isn’t a sunset.
Sunrise From the Moon
wound around with the first sunrise
arms like swans
lovers seen from the moon pause.
their hungers rest, too, exhausted.
there is dew, becoming too, cool
on separate things, grass, a bench
when they close their eyes
to one another, feeling nothing
warm but one another.
watch them from here on the moon
the first time open their eyes together.
what a great flow and rhythm, barbara….super smooth off the tongue
Nikki said it best: Because I read all poems aloud, some just roll of the tongue. Your sense of sound within phrases shines: “…from the moon pause, their hungers rest, too…” Well written, Nikki! Amy
Great flow 🙂
Ordinary Days
Just look at them, would you? Whole live before them,
and they have the gullibility of youth to believe
that this day is the pinnacle–the dress, the dance,
the roses he chose without a hint from her.
Should we tell them the truth—that years from now
the days they’ll recall may be instead the ordinary days,
that they’ll look back at what has yet to happen,
feeling a lovely ache, not for the taffeta and bow ties,
but the warm worn jersey out of the dryer,
the surprise phone calls for no special reason,
the flowers picked by small hands without permission
from neighbors’ flower beds? No, let’s not spoil it now.
There’s no way they could know how precious
those indistinguishable days can be.
There is a lot of truth in this, especially among those of us who are able to look backward in wonder… both kinds! Nicely done, Nancy. Mine is below. Amy
Nicely written. I like the way you ended it 🙂
The Morning After
Romance lay heavy on the air
as he arrived on her doorstep
with a corsage in hand;
She blushes,
he chats
and they pose for pictures
before leaving;
They joined their friends
in the transformed room
full of teenage hormones,
and they danced
till the shoes came off,
the hair drooped
and the lipstick was gone;
Then seeking to forestall
the inevitable ending
of the senior prom,
they drive off to the lake
and share a few last
dew drops of romance
as the sun rises.
Oooh, yummy and romantic, Michelle. This is a perfect post-wedding or post-prom picture, and you used it to lovely effect. Amy (mine is belove)
A lovely account of the morning after 🙂
Pingback: Lakeside Conversation, Poetic Bloomings « Sharp Little Pencil
Ah, back to the wonderful world of poems after my editing break! The poem is posted on my blog and also at Poets United, which might help increase readers, too! Walt, a lovely photo the brought from within an exunpected conversation:: http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/09/15/lakeside-conversation-poetic-bloomings/
Lakeside Conversation
An autumn breeze caressed my cheek.
A moment with no words to speak
aloud, but softly, with great care:
“The end of this; we know it’s there.”
The carefree days, each careful kiss;
I know that life holds more than this
for me,” I sighed, and waited for
response from him. Then, this he swore:
“I’ll like you ‘til my dying day.
Please be my friend, although we’ll lay
apart, and in the arms of others.”
This is love time never smothers:
The gift of letting passion go
because true friendship deems it so.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Loved this, Amy! “The gift of letting passion go….”
~Paula
Thanks, Paula. I had a different feeling about the pair from the start, and what is almost a sonnet poured out of me, the very first poem I wrote after taking a break and editing. Thanks again, Amer
This is lovely Amy. I like the different take on the prompt 🙂
Pingback: BEFORE THE PROM | The Poet's Quill
BEFORE THE PROM
By Mike Patrick
Before the prom, we had some time
to kill. Twas happenstance Spring’s clime
was ripe for love to finally bloom.
And we, beneath the lake’s full moon,
embraced within the scent of pine.
Your beauty, in your gown sublime,
was all I saw as lips met mine.
The minutes ran away so soon
before the prom
We trifled then with love’s lifeline,
not knowing how it would define
our happiness, with children, strewn
with laughter we could not presume
before our lives did full entwine . . .
before the prom.
Mike, you are an unabashed romantic! Loved this. Amy
Love this Mike. Very romantic 🙂
A Haiku taking a look at this photo from the “other” side!
WIth a heavy sigh
we realize the end has come
to us and the day.
the “other” side of blooming romance, that is. After I wrote and posted I realized it all sounded a little macabre…not at all what I meant.
A lovely haiku. I didn’t think it was macabre at all 🙂
Kelly, we both saw the resignation possible in that pose… Yours was contained in a haiku! And Poetry & Icecream, I agree, “macabre” isn’t the word. Maybe “cynical”? Not all pictures are as they seem… it’s about getting into the minds of the characters, and you achieved that!
I saw this photo on Mike’s blog and I really liked it so I thought I’d have a go too 🙂
YOUNG LOVE
The lake as serene as her heart
reflects her quiet joy.
The soft breeze caresses her dreams
as she breathes in his heady scent.
Tomorrow’s hope gently
ripples towards them.
The future belongs to lovers.
First off – GREAT NAME, Poetry & Icecream – two of my favorite things!
This reminds me of “Hello, Young Lovers,” from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “The King & I,” which you are probably too young to remember.
The future belongs to lovers – that line is packed with so much meaning, plus a bit of lovely innuendo! Amy
Thanks Amy. Very much appreciated 🙂
Pingback: Young Love « Poetry and Icecream