I can smell the shame, and the violence of the downburst. Through my life, I experienced both the bruisings and the word-spates, as real pain.
I wish to wrap you in a fluffy soft towel and let you weep – I often cry at the end of thunderstorms, at the release of pressure … may you smile your tomorrows
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Thank you very much! Those words alone are comforting 🙂 I am happy those events are in your past as well.
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Short and not so sweet, Sam, you hooked me with the barrage of words, the reverse of the well-known saying ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me’. Your poem resonates. I like the phrase ‘drenched in the downburst’, the hardness of the alliteration really bites. Thanks for joining us.
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Lip-smackingly pungent poeticising, Sam!
I can smell the shame, and the violence of the downburst. Through my life, I experienced both the bruisings and the word-spates, as real pain.
I wish to wrap you in a fluffy soft towel and let you weep – I often cry at the end of thunderstorms, at the release of pressure … may you smile your tomorrows
Thank you very much! Those words alone are comforting 🙂 I am happy those events are in your past as well.
Short and not so sweet, Sam, you hooked me with the barrage of words, the reverse of the well-known saying ‘sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me’. Your poem resonates. I like the phrase ‘drenched in the downburst’, the hardness of the alliteration really bites. Thanks for joining us.
You are welcome 🙂 and thank you for the prompt!
Words much worse… that one sticks
Thank you!