Spark

The Daily Post prompt is ‘underestimate’.

Nikolay_Dubovskoy_More_s_chaykami_1911

You held out dreams of moon and stars,

And a boat to carry us where we would.

Instead you sailed away alone,

Bright shards I gathered as I could.

 

Black night fell, joy turned to dust,

Cold ashes filled my mouth and eyes,

A pinpoint in the darkness calling,

Beating through tumultuous skies.

 

Gull white and grey, the free sky soaring,

Beat back the dark and cloudy night,

I found a spark amid the shambles,

Feathered hope in broad-winged flight.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

13 thoughts on “Spark”

    1. The ability to pick oneself up. I rather take it for granted that when you get dumped, your self esteem takes a knock. Call it poetic licence, the poet just being obscure, or just three stanzas of rhyming verse that are only very loosely connected with the theme. Okay, if it was an exam question, I’d fail.

      1. Far from it. I found the poem engaging if a tad confusing. I thought you were drawing an analogy from receding light, sun or moon and then picking up the broken pieces of a shattered love vessel and finding, there in, something, a trace, a spark of hope

      2. I often use seagulls to symbolise hope. You’re right though, it isn’t particularly clear. Often my poems don’t stand up to critical analysis. I just like the sound of the words.

      3. I think, Jane, that is the fault of the audience. How can we, as writers, improve our work without seeing how others view it? Since our imperative is communication, but even in that, it doesn’t mean simple. Hell, as a reader, I expect and want to do some work. Personally, even if I did get the bird analogy, the feather, there were so many I,ages, it confused me

      4. I agree, we need criticism if we’re to improve. I’m not a fan of the— it’s art, if you don’t understand it, that’s because you’re stupid—approach. Nothing that is so personal to the author that nobody else understands it is going to be seen as anything but pretentious. When I get a minute, I’ll fiddle with this one, but it won’t be today. I’m pissing about changing my website and tearing my hair.

      5. I’m sitting out on my roof garden, with a cold beer and a barbecued Toulouse sausage

      6. I know the feeling. I had a fresh sea bass and a bunch of prawns. Was expecting my brother and had the barbecue on, then my brother called, told me he couldn’t make it and so I was left with a feast I couldn’t possibly hope to eat. Life can be bitch, sometimes

  1. No. A cat neighbour visits. But not tonight. Not to worry, the salads will keep, along with half the prawns, mixed in to a couscous salad. The rest, the sea bass and the prawn brochettes, was great

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