How poetic can you be? Write a short poem about what you see

He lost her. He did not know what to say,

So, he wrote it in a letter threw it in a bottle in the bay.

It spoke of his love and how foolish he had been,

How he really had not meant goodbye, did not want it to end.

His words had hurt her. He could see it in her eyes,

Her voice held pain as she told him goodbye.

Fate held true as she walked along the beach,

A bottle with a letter floated just beyond her reach.

She stopped walking. Why? She did not know,

Not until the bottle washed ashore with the water’s flow.

It was private. She should not read the words written there,

But she did. Tears released it had to be him. He really did care.

© Cynthia Clark

Thanks so much Cynthia

A note in the bottle,

alone on a beach

what did it mean?

It was hers to beseech

He had written it months ago,

Saying to himself, if she got it, he'd know

That she was the right woman for him,

He'd written the note on a whim

Thinking if it did reach her,

their relationship was a whirlwind and blur

So if she did receive this note,

the marriage proposal would get a vote

She happened to be walking the beach one day,

She saw the bottle with a note, blocking her way.

She picked it up and read what was inside.

Her heart jolted it had been a wild ride.

She knew her answer would be yes,

to the note in the bottle and what it addressed.

She turned around and there he stood,

She said yes to the proposal, she knew she would,

For she loved him with all her heart,

this love was there right from the start.

I saw a bird today, perched regally on a fence post.

Staring at me as if watching a ghost.

With eyes ringed in gold.

With centres dark and cold.

She watched me pass by.

A bird saw me today.

There was once a time when the future seemed bright from afar, when dreams were looking easy to achieve from afar off, when there was the zealnto achieve. As the time grew nigh, everything was looking bleak, gradually and ultimately, it became bottled up in my frail mind with age,

Gradually these dreams became past tenses and now are completely locked up in the deepest part of my heart, convered by the thickest layers of muscles, slowly slowly it fades away from reach.

Our dreams finally over and bottled up.