Salford , 10th October 2018
I don’t remember exactly
When my clumbersome feet
Felt lighter than a feather
Perhaps it was walking across fields of flowers
Or watching the squirrels In the local park,
Rolling around in the mounds of freshly cut grass
Or maybe, it was the taste of strawberries in winter,
Hiding away in a little fruit tartlet
Or at most, the moment at that high school dance
Where the girl I had an eye on gave me half a chance
Moments now scattered in the mind, here and there
Moments I was literally dancing on air
Athought from inky in response to the prompt
Give your love a sweet Valentine invitation
on a piece of rice paper parchment
send it with hand picked roses
made from flavoured marzipan
and those vegetables she doesn’t like on her salad
will taste o so much sweeter when she finds they’re strawberries
A poetical piece, posted as a poetic response to my piece in If I could turn back time….
A moment in an hour of doom,
lifted my spirits in the disco lit gloom.
This wallflower clings to the wall with care
whilst the beauty in his vision sits on a chair
A moment of courage came to the lad,
so I decided to take the chance I had.
And by chance , our eyes began to meet
so I started to shuffle my nervous feet
Towards You , on the floor
and not , towards the door
You took me, quite
When you moved, those
Towards the apparent, valentines
That was me.
So while you move, wi’ your soda and lime
we’ll move to the middle, and take our time
grasping the nettle, and taking a chance
to hold one another – and dance!
In response to the prompt : If I Could Turn Back Time
I’m brought back to a Christmas Dance, or was it Valentine’s Day ?
Fifteen years old, and wet behind the ears….
A memory of a beautiful girl with Jet Black Hair, and a smile that would melt the frostiest of hearts. I recall the briefest of dances, and a polished hall floor – and a pair of eyes that I could have fallen into, those pools were so deep.
Here’s Me – shuffling my feet in distraction, Her – Smiling at me in gentle reassurance. I could have sworn she just winked at me. Her hand drifting softly into mine as we softly skipped across the wooden dance floor. And then with a peck on the cheek – it was over. We’d left the dance floor holding hands, but more as friends – not anything else.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda – comes to mind. I tried to remedy the situation a year later – but by then we were heading down different paths…It raised a titter down college corridors. So perhaps – If the clocks could be reversed – and I got that second chance,
what would I do ?
Ask her the question obviously….