Sunday, 31 July 2016

Day 31- Dear Dream

Dear Dream,
When I woke, you weren't beside.
Dear Dream,
I think I sensed a goodbye.

Lightning flickering,
I remember my days with your heart.
In my commonsense wisdom,
it's strange, our time apart.

I'm under no illusions;
you were a rare find.
A way that lessened my ache,
making my sorrows seem worthwhile.

When I can no longer write,
I hope you will be okay.
I wish you hadn't left,
though I know why it's that way.

Dear Dream,
When I woke, I cried.
Dear Dream,
I think I sensed a goodbye.


Source: Paul's letters to Adrienne, Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks

Saturday, 30 July 2016

Friday, 29 July 2016

Day 29- Afloat

A reverse erasure

Source: Chapter 14, Nights in Rodanthe
by Nicholas Sparks

Thursday, 28 July 2016

Day 28- Big Bang

A reverse erasure :)
Source: Chapter 13, Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Day 27- What Love Was

The world dissolving into something
distant wasn't love.
The dream outside
the sky wasn't love.
The rush of intuitive
feeling wasn't love.

The product of a few
words wasn't love.
The inability to keep a feud
going wasn't love.

Waiting for a
response wasn't love.
The will to repair
the rift wasn't love.
"I'm sorry" wasn't love.
Comfort, half in the shadow of
storm, wasn't love.

A promise to make it
through wasn't love.
A dance of give and
take wasn't love.
Making
love wasn't love.

To know what to do 
was almost meaningless.

It was a combination
of a thousand things,
but it wasn't love. 


Source: Chapter 12, Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks

 

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

Day 26- Roll the Dice

When hoping for
a lucky roll of the dice,
get things ready.

Consider possibilities
both close and far away.
Connect sea to sky.

Feel the pull
of the swirling wind, far
from anything that could be.

Collide with awkwardness
two and a half feet wide
and six feet high.

Soft pedal what happened,
mentally outlining repairs.
Label intensity.

Plan on falling in love.
Hold back
the ravages of time.

In the aftermath of purpose,
become a whisper.


Source: Chapter 11-12, Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks