Lawrence Sharp Poet Free verse

Sunny Cove

Out by the big yellow buoy
I trod water for a few minutes,
longer than I'd have liked,
alone in the company of friends
who may have been alone too.
When we returned to shore,
I returned gladly -
always so gladly, every damn time ! -
counted my limbs to be sure.
I left at least one woman there,
at least one of them left me.
We left each other there,
on the rocks, or on the catwalk,
or somewhere nice nearby.
Of one, I quickly knew
we'd have ruined each other;
I could offer no worship,
another knew in time.
Who saw what, how,
on that beautiful, dire morning
that the spry old lady was taken ?
Did the water swell beneath her
a glance before she was devoured ?
Perhaps those jaws 
happened on her with less warning.
Regardless, I counted my limbs;
the spry old lady won't.

14th August 2020

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Harry Horsman August 20, 2020 at 10:33 PM Was it a lucky escape? or what?, The poetry, is epic going on to read the next one. Lawrence Sharp August 21, 2020 at 8:31 AM Thanks very much, Harry, appreciated, always.

Paula Goldsmith August 18, 2020 at 8:09 AM Out of the water or be a meal. When I was about 8, I was fishing with my dad a got a baby shark on my line. They get people each year. After all we play in their backyard. I enjoyed this fun write. Have a wonderful day writing away........ Lawrence Sharp August 19, 2020 at 3:21 AM Thanks for visit and comment, Paula, good to have you here.

Brandy Nicole August 16, 2020 at 6:07 PM "I left at least one woman there, at least one of them left me. It happens in life. We are left or we decide to leave. Once again, your words say so much. There is a deep meaning within. ~ Brandy Lawrence Sharp August 17, 2020 at 6:41 AM Thanks, Branderz, I'm always happy to see you; very pleasing if it has any impact.

Freddie Robinson Jr. August 16, 2020 at 1:42 AM Drips w/tragic poignancy, this poem be, Lawrence. Your intimate weaving of words causes us to shudder embrace this inky muse gem w/macabre curiosity. Splendid write. Love and more love forever. Lawrence Sharp August 16, 2020 at 6:37 AM Thank you, RomWar, too kind. As always, my friend, Peace, Rest.

Robert Lindley August 15, 2020 at 4:29 PM Sharks are no joke. When hungry a man is a meal.. Great poem .my friend. A fav.. God bless... Lawrence Sharp August 16, 2020 at 6:36 AM Thanks for fave, Robert; your nod of approval is always very greatly valued.

Silent One August 15, 2020 at 11:53 AM Yes it is shark day...I know there is a lot more, from your other poem... You wrote is very well Lawrence Sharp August 15, 2020 at 12:44 PM Thanks, Si, very pleasing if it worked.

Eric Ashford August 15, 2020 at 10:32 AM I guess this is a sister poem to There, Clovely? Sharks and past lovers, mashed very well together with missing limbs. The elderly lady adds an invisible pathos to the muse. Well done. e Lawrence Sharp August 15, 2020 at 11:11 AM Thanks, Eric, very pleased if you enjoyed. Sharks and past lovers, yes, you have a keen eye.

Silent One August 15, 2020 at 9:06 AM Is this linked with the other poem? Are you writing this because it is shark day in the states? Lawrence Sharp August 15, 2020 at 11:13 AM Shark Day ? Really ? Well, you're on the mark with the shark business, but there's much more happening, both above and below the surface. Thanks for visit and comment, always good to see you here.

Vijay Pandit August 14, 2020 at 1:52 PM You counted your limbs and got out of there, but the old lady won't. An intriguing journey you had my friend...I left at least one woman there, at least one of them left me...You always make me pause and reflect on your poems, Lawrence. Lawrence Sharp August 14, 2020 at 11:59 PM Thanks for dropping in, Vijay. I'm always pleased to know that a write makes you stop to contemplate for a minute; you are always a quite thoughtful reader, my friend.