Image Copyright D Sisson
Seashells on the shore
I'd like to crawl inside them
Hide myself away
Safe inside where the hard world
Cannot hurt me anymore
~Cie~
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
14 comments:
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I try to get comments published as quickly as possible. I don't always reply to comments on my blog, but I do try to visit as many people as possible when I participate in blog hops and I share links where possible to Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and such so others can discover your work. I do read and appreciate your comments.
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I know THAT feeling.
ReplyDeletehttps://rlavalette.wordpress.com/2019/05/14/one-deep-breath/
I think in today's world it's hard not to unless one is the Patrick Bateman type. Thanks for visiting!
DeleteSadly, the rude world enjoys prying shells open, even if we are lucky enough to find one. Solid tanka, Cie.
ReplyDeleteIt does indeed. Some people are only happy when they're being cruel or invasive. Thanks for visiting!
DeleteWhen more than one poem is posted, I arbitrarily pick one to read and comment on. Such a sad poem with true feelings.
ReplyDeleteI love the thought of such a hard shell too.
ReplyDeleteI've always been fascinated by hard-shelled animals, even the common garden snail. When I had an aquarium, I always kept snails in it to eat the algae.
Deletep.s. My writing for Tuesday is a HAPPY one.
Delete..
I also love shells, all kinds, and have had that thought myself on any number of occasions.
ReplyDeleteThey are things of such great beauty. I sometimes feel a bit less agnostic than I usually am when looking at them and think that only a gifted higher power could have designed such a thing.
DeleteUnderstood.
ReplyDelete:-)
Delete"Seashells on the shore" sure would be a nicer place than being cooped up in a jar someplace. I also read your first poem. I left a comment. IF I only read one somebody with more than one it's generally the first one. Hang in there, Cie, and like my old boss used to say, "Write faster." [:-) I like to read yours.
ReplyDelete..
My son has always enjoyed messing with my head. He has also always hated commuting. When he was taking physics in high school, he would always say to me: "You don't need to drive faster, but you should drive MORE!" He explained that driving MORE would get us there sooner, but he never explained just how this was supposed to work.
DeletePeople can read as many or as few of my poems as they wish. I always appreciate your visits!