With No Hint of An End

whilst this may not be entirely true, it is nevertheless, based wholly on factual events that once occurred very near to my own patch of the ocean .. 🤍

With No Hint of An End

 

 These words may have no beginning,

but they bounce

and echo loud, around the labyrinths

of the self-same shell

  they were first each imprisoned in ..

Fine words they are too

and when whispered soft, might be

mistaken for the sea,

or the wind, as it mouths and teases

her wild golden,

finger-combed hair, brushed back,

  slightly damp and still salty ..

My lady once lived for such poetry

yet she would lay there

still and barely breathing just in case

   the spell somehow, got broken ..

Then upon waking, she would look up

and see the world

   through a perfect Ken Simm painting ..

Yes, it was then, she felt a kiss,

south of the nape her neck did crave

  and he also thirsted for ..

Ache gentle he begged, against these

 delicious downward thrusts

and be light as green lacewings wings

lost on clouds passing us by ..

And like that, they remain to this day,

safe in the cove of

their own little harbour, where words

such as these, tend to go

around and around, with not one hint

of a beginning, no signs of a

  middle, nor trace of an imminent end even ..

 

Author's Note

I should be so lucky .. hence no note for reviewers .. 🤍

Reviews

[R J Askew]

Magical how the words start there dance in a casual sort of way but very soon take us to a heart-stopping moment when everything is perfect, a moment we want to go on forever but never does: 'finger-combed hair brushed back ... slightly damp and still salty ...' The line ... 'just in case the spell got broken' ... nakes me think that even the vision know it can't last, which is sad, but so painfully true for all of us. Now here we are, watching passing clouds. Yet we are the ones who are passing. Lovely read.

[Neville]

Thank you kindly kind sir .. and here was me thinking I had been forsaken .. Hope you are well and wishing you all good things.

Neville 😎👍

[R J Askew]

All good things to you, too, sir! Never forsaken. ron

[Neville]

Cheers Ron 😎👍

[Light and ashes]

beautiful and enigmatic..

[Neville]

Bless you my friend .. thanks a million .. Neville

[Light and ashes]

beautiful piece... you're welcome

[Jansy]

This feels like being caught in a tidal wave of words and memory..sensual, endless, and utterly hypnotic. Every line loops and swirls, like a perfect echo of desire and thought with no beginning, no end, just infinite resonance. Beautifully immersive.
-James

[Neville]

Many very sincere thank you's Neville 😎👍

[RomaJ]

Neville, this poem is mesmerizing. I love how the words themselves feel like they are echoing, looping through the mind like the sea and wind, capturing the timelessness of memory and desire.

The sensory details..the salt on her hair, the subtle ache of longing--make the intimacy vivid and tender, while the overarching metaphor of the labyrinth conveys the cyclical, unending nature of emotion and recollection.

It’s a beautiful meditation on how some moments and feelings remain safely preserved, with no hint of a beginning or end.

[Neville]

I am delighted you felt able to stop by and consider these words .. and I sincerely thank you for the heart-warming review you left behind .. Neville 😎🌻👍

[SM Davis]

At first I thought this might be a fantastic write about a block. I've been known to write a one or ten about that. Then...I read further and I saw that this was not a block but a stream.... a lovely stream of what must be a beautiful loop of memory. Unsure about that, but it was a lovely read just the same.

[Neville]

what an extraordinarily encouraging thing to propose ..there's barely enough room in this here little rectangle to adequately express my gratitude so will sign off now with the biggest of THANK YOU's ..

Neville 😎🌻👍

[John the Baptist]

I may be mistaken, but to me this one carries echoes of grief. The sensuous words seem to be a memory of something beautiful that is now consigned to memory. Indeed, there they will have no end.

[Neville]

Bless you John, your take on these words is appreciated .. Neville

[jacob erin-cilberto]

If they are mistaken for any of those, then that is visual poetry.
I have written so many poems that seemed to have no real beginning...at least not one to put a finger upon.
This is like really old time poetry, but much better because it freely flows and has no forced rhyme like much of the old ballad poetry.
Nicely done.

[Neville]

Good morning my time Jacob .. I really can't thank you enough for taking time to consider my latest post and the encouraging note you left behind .. Cheers,

Neville

[Chris Shaw]

I love the reference to sea shells and imprisonment. This whole piece is like a dreamscape. It is timeless. The reference to Ken Sim’s paintings is a testimony to the love of nature and a nod to a great artist. This is a love poem, it has such a tender touch, a whisper of a kiss. I felt the poem’s embrace like a safety net, the safety of a harbour when the going gets rough and tough. The ending tells me there is no ending. As to your author’s note keep dreaming if dreaming finds its way to words such as these. Beautiful poetry Neville. Up there with your finest. Happy weekend to you and your loved ones. The imagery is breathtaking by the way. Wonderful.

Chris 💜

[Neville]

Thanks a million our Chris, that'll do me just perfectly .. Neville 💜