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She loved the water, but not as much as the water loved her. Reaching for her, struggling for embrace each time she set foot on it’s shores. The lake was vast and held beauty and life of all kinds, but it wanted nothing more than this girl. The girl who marveled at the water’s beauty even when the wind was stinging and harsh and no others would venture away from their homes on such a day.
The lake left her gifts. It collected the wastes and trash that others had abandoned at it’s soft edges and transformed it into treasures of all sorts. Broken bottles, once with jagged edges, were now jewels of the water’s making. Gifts for the girl, they were strewn about the sand.
Each time the girl followed the shore the waves would reach for her feet longingly. The girl would giggle and bound away from the approaching wave, afraid to wet her shoes on such a cold day. As moments passed the girl would venture on, drifting nearer to the water, searching for treasures along the edge of the sand. Each time she did, the lake would reach for her. Again she would giggle.
They played this game each time the girl came to visit the lake. The lake loved the way the girl’s laughter rode on the wind, but as time went by the lake grew more and more blue. Not in colour, but in spirit. Reaching for something it loved dearly without embrace. Only summer brought hope that the girl would venture away from the shore. The lake understood, but oh how the it longed for the coming of summer warmth.
This was inspired by a friend who enjoyed dragging me to the beach in the midst of winter.
My secret inspiration?
I’m painting a memory.

I’m painting sun soaked
Pink skin,
And rough wave soaked docks.
a shower
abaft made
a soul
in Penn
Yen then
wrest my
heart there
when thunder
chicken cue
the race
and ready
in Watkins
Glen they
sped into
heaven in
the finger
lake alas
a race in new york
grace Mar 9
there is a place
i go
and lately
i never leave.
i go
to think
i wish i’d never left you.

we use to talk
about my place.
not knowing
you’d soon be the reason
i go
my place is good
the birds smile
to expect
in return,
will you let

my place is true
the trees
8pm sky
an array of blues
and greens.
my tears.
my place,
could’ve been our place
is calm.

surrounded by
a crater of tears
filled with the words
we shared
i repeat them
over and over
my brain is a tape
set to rewind
a rewind
of you
your touch
your smile,
so sweet-

winter is coming
the fog settles
the sun hides
our tape must be played,
but there are no cassettes
and it cannot
it’s forgetting
i’m forgetting.

did you forget
the way you felt
when we swam
and sang
and embraced
like we could just be,
just exist,

before i ruined something good
something kind
something true
like my place
my place.
which could’ve been our place.
but now.
will forever be mine
and only mine.
i’m pretty new to poetry so this poem is kind of a mess, would appreciate some feedback!
Arisa Mar 3
I paint the picture with pastel colors.
Dotting the sky in pink clouds
While the horizon lay in an amber slumber.
A single pine tree slanted towards the crystal lake;
I draw another for companionship.
And it soon blooms into a forest
With shrubs and blackberry bushes and ferns,
Then I make a ripple in the lake
With leaves that drift along the gentle current
To the farther edges of the tender loch.

I envisioned the clear waters of the wetlands
As I cleaned my pallet and washed away the paint,
Like how painting landscapes washed away my worries.
I'm sure you saw a completely different image to what I actually painted. You are such a unique, beautiful creature.
i remember your name
i forget mine
i remember your face

it is intelligence
i forget which does my face
look like?

i drop at lake
of love that may make
me fly and take

your image with mine
deepest, deepest your love
into my inner heart

that makes my heart
shouting that is enough
no, the love is not enough, the faith and honest mush accompany with
Loving you is
Amazing and you make me better!
Keep me safe
Everyday and you make

Everyday better! My
For you are growing
Together and watch our shows

Keep the love and
I will always love you!
Don't forget that!
Sometimes when you love someone so much its hard to find the words but just want to share the love.
Title by Fall Out Boy
McNally, 2019
StoryTallinn Feb 17
Owl screaming in the night
Bears looking for a fight
At the end of the path
Near the lake, a cottage

There I will rest
Healing my feet
In the chimney
Fire burning bright

When morning comes
With no danger in sight
Then, I will carry on
Building my own freedom
Miranda Feb 1
my toes are inching toward the lake
for a moment i’m too cowardly to touch the drink
the water has been rolling towards me all the while
and it is braver than i am and so the first to make contact
the water washes over my sandy feet
my eyes are closed and for a second i am alone with my sensations
i hear seagulls above
the children laughing beside me
i can hear the water trickling, waves crashing
then something grabs me by the leg
I stand in a puddle of water
Liquid pooled around my ankles
Dripping from my eyes so slow I didn’t notice them at first
But when they become apparent, foreign fingers brushed them away
And I’d disregard the wetness to pull back the hands

Who do these hands belong to?

The puddle becomes a pool
I stand in the shallow end and wiggle my toes
My fingers have grown pruney from where my fingers dip in the water
Blisters have settled on my soles and children splash at my face
Droplets trail to my collarbone and I blink away water or tears and wonder
Ears listening to unrecognizable laughter

Whose children are these?

The water sits level at my mouth
I should feel weightless but my clothes drag me down
The pool has become a lake and I stand in it shivering
Perched on my toes there is a precarious balance for air
The tears don’t stop and keeps the water rising
My sobs echo across the surface
Murky figures wave at me from the shore and smile like they know me

Who am I?

They say a river never forgets
That it knows its way back to the ocean
But my river swirls around my head and drips from my ears
From my eyes
The lake forms a lock of memories that can be touched
But never held

A lake is where memories go to be forgotten

So I drown in a Lethe that pours from my eyes, from my mind
And I sink to forget and be forgotten
Bit personal, won't lie

Permission to use with credit
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