Poet, you —
bring me sun-
stretched words
as summer-muslin
bed-sheets
drying
on a clothesline
Poet, you —
pledge me night-
words
delight me darkly as
a buttercup
rewards the bee.
Portrait of a Woman – The White Dress by William Merritt Chase
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Living on the equator but longing for snow
Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
A journey through the seasons with two adopted whippets, a poet and a camera
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
2 years, mental illness, bucketlist
Meditations from the Midwest
Interesting way of turning the droll, mundane, and ordinary into the stuff of literature
AHHHHHHHHH, I LOVE this. After reading darkness, how lovely to think of poems strung on a clothesline in the sun, poetry to delight one as a buttercup rewards the bee. My favourite poem I read today.
I remember when the bed sheet choices were muslin and percale.
Damn fine…you killed the prompt with beauty and nostalgia. This was amazing my friend.
I love this❣️For some unknown reason, the sight of clothes on a clothesline blowing in the wind has always moved me. 🙂
Oh I do love this. I really do. From the sheets flapping in the wind to the buttercup and the bee.
Sun stretched words… that’s beautiful!!
So beautiful…
To this day I am still enthralled with the scent of sun dried cotton. A tree killed our clothesline during a tornado last year. We have planted cucumbets and squash in its place. An interesting take on the prompt!
Thankyou for pegging out this poem for us all to read.
Very nicely said, Bjorn. We have a saying here, “hang out your laundry.” I.e. tell what is troubling you or do you have gripe.”
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I adore this poem, Björn!
My favourite!
How gorgeous! The title and the ensuing images and metaphors are delightful. I am glad that you dropped by and wrote for this one, Bjorn! 🙂
This is incredibly exquisite, Bjorn! ❤️
Sun-stretched words – this is just one brilliant line within an incredible poem.
Two evocative images.. and you peg them out in true poetic style, letting the reader imagine the rest.
There’s a neat balance between the stanzas. LOL, the most obvious is one between clean and dirty, but purient thoughts aside. But I am very charmed by the idea of balance between what is shown, and the hidden mechanations behind the scenes, which is exactly the essence of poetry.