![]() "A Bud" Photography by Diana Mary Sharpton Introduction: “The sea loved the moon When she was supposed to love the shore. The moon knew And hence made his intentions known. That she should love the shore Who was destined for her. Yet his protests seemed weak. And even when he pushed her towards the shore- She always retreated back. To want, to need, to love the moon For all she's worth. Everyone said, it wasn't meant to happen. Yet, the Tsunami rose that night for their union.” ― Saiber, Stardust and Sheets The Peccadillo Ocean waves thrashing in endless hostility upon rocks speckling a cold barren shore. With persistence, a rhythm in pilot with wind, current and sea, observe youth! What's his aspiration? Peculiarity, prospect, shrewdness! Or was it simply fascination? I am not convinced with this perplexity! Like a ewe hours in birth, vulnerable, fresh, new, no judgment just direction. With enchantment, it steps towards awareness and possibility. Behold epoch! What's her scheme? Affirmed with hostility? Determination! Or is in tempo to song, absolutely dubious to all! Enveloped brilliance as a rose bud opens, youth tantalizes and lures time. Arouses fantasy, discerns intellect, mitigates fixation, and assures mendacity. A duped interval within space or time that inspires artistic prose, where is the peccadillo? Is it in desire, love or merely awareness of the seduction? Maybe both or all three, you see. Diana Mary Sharpton © 2014 all rights reserved An old one Sugar.. and thinking about you tonight... Diana Mary Sharpton ~ Poetry & Photography ©All Rights Reserve 2017 Contact: DianaMSharpton@Gmail.com
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AuthorDiana Mary Sharpton Archives
November 2020
Diana Mary Sharpton“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” Categories
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