The surf and sand we fell down on—
a bed provided by the sea
that smoothed the sheets we lay upon.
Those stories spun out by your tongue
slipped out of you through parted lips—
portals through which your life was sung.
Letter, syllable and word
was carried by the power of breath—
each a lovely soaring bird.
How did they know to find their way
to one who coveted their sound—
their whisper and their plaintive bay?
That night stretched out upon the beach,
finally, we fell to rest
and tell our stories without speech.
For the dVersePoets Pub, we were to write a poem of tercets, using three of these sets of words as ends to lines. I broke the rules and used all five.
SPEECH REST BEACH
ON SEA UPON
WORD BREATH BIRD
WAY SOUND BAY
SUNG LIPS TONGUE