Early Morning Reverie

She will leave the warm embrace of
his bed, pull a t-shirt on to cover
and walk with silent feet across
the hard wooden floors while he,
adjusted to sudden space will move
and fling an arm across the now
vacant warmth of their bed.

She likes that time to herself
to watch the water from the
balcony, as spring ducks dive
hopeful ever for that last crumb
and numb feet now impervious
to the cold, dew wet concrete.

She likes to watch the early risers
pedalling along the paths, expending
energy, blowing stress in vapour breaths
as forbidden smokers huddle, casting
furtive looks and belching out their
fumes like old factory chimneys to weld
in amongst the grey skies of solitary morn.

Sounds fill her as the air chills
her narrowed gaze deep upon
dark opaque waters that relentlessly
carve a path to their distant dreams
singing songs of long wayward journeys.

She won't move now until she feels
a warm hand touch her nape
and sleepy eyes beckon her from
this cold and lonely stance and such
a glance is as warming to her
as the bed she left a while ago.

They will sit with doors open
gently communicating through the
the lapping water, until its sated
rhythm calls. Then unspoken
they'll take Sunday back to bed
and let the river run its course.

Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 591 times
Written on 2015-11-13 at 20:26

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
It is all so beautiful. Your work is changing and focusing more directly on feeling and emotion. I like this very much. Especially compared to my lackluster effort a week or so back.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is one of your best, Elle. It's magnificent.

What could be better than spending a Sunday alone--and then together with someone you care about--a good balance of solitude and human contact.

Always nicely written and ever so real. An ordinary day seems not ordinary at all but a day filled with contemplation and love.

Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
:-)x Beyond the shadows of doubt Elle knows the paints a met is a for.

Nancy Sikora
Beautiful. Early morning is such a special time of day, the "magic hour."

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
A warm and almost somnolent piece that captures the distance that two lovers acquire from the would around the. Detached from the world simply because there is no room left; their love completely filling the extents.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
This is dreamy and sensuous. Like so many, all, of your poems, they're transportive, for me, to a better place in my imagination, a perfect world.