GIRLS AND BOYS AND GULLS

I sit along the shore, mesmerized
by waves in their cyclical samba
rolling and trolling on the lake
of hopeful dreams. Screams of children
playing in the surf, scattering –
chattering in an endless drone
screeches and squeals, peels
of raucous running and splashing,
flashing sunshine from their gleeful
eyes. Skies, blue and reflective
subjected to the whimsy of wide-eyed
wonder under the spell of tides.
There comes a lull, children
amassed like seagulls, charging &
retreating. Bleating like sea birds,
indistinguishable in their spirit.
You can hear it in the children’s joy.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

POETS UNITED – Midweek Motif – CHILDREN

CRASH INTO ME

(Inspired by DMB)

Play me like a gramophone.
For you, my melody plays
upon your ears like droplets of scented
sweat, forsaking decency for ravenous lovemaking,
flesh upon flesh, a tantric dance with trumpets
in a torrent of pleasure.
Wave after wave, a cascade – our love is a river
ever-rolling. Currents and tides
do not quench desire’s fire.
They become the scenery, in all its
fine blue-greenery, a limpid pool
free of debris, veiled in camouflage
of willow fronds. Stones upon the pond
skip like mallards as they light on morning’s mists,
waters reflect and bend, refracting
and contracting. Closing fissure and ford,
the distance between dual hearts beating,
charging and retreating, repetitious,
a delicious rhythm. Blood boils,
caged animals unbridled. Sidled with
verse of symbolic stanzas, magic words;
incantations of faithless impermanence.
Textures mired in ink-like muck, a boggy
bowel, silt filled. Stroking
striped oars rowing homeward.
Like frantic marionette dolls unstrung,
it’s in the cards. Crash into me hard.

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

RED WOLF POEMS – WE WORDLE #17

THE BOY WHO (WHO WOULD BE DOCTOR)

A TARDIS (Police Box)

Around the neighbourhood he would roam,
saving civilisation close to home.
A boy sized TARDIS was a great deal,
(equipped with TARDIS training wheels).
Just a lad, he was glad that righting wrongs
was a noble fight, as long as it didn’t take all night!
Even young time-lords were quite punctual
as long as the street lamps were fully functional.
Science fiction, or science fact could not
detract from the popularity of this
bi-polarity. The young man, for certain no fool,
light years away from medi-school.
A dozen Doctors have transpired,
the Who’s just a boy, too young to be hired.
But let him play. He’ll grow someday
to be the Who, in every way!
From generation to re-generation,
thanks are due to the BBC station
for giving minds a chance to expand
and travel with this time-travel man!

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

POETIC ASIDES PROMPT #261 – “THE BOY WHO______”