His hand found mine; the surge of that first touch,
lit flicks of flame, and caused my heart to sing.
He said ‘You’re quiet, why say you not much?’
His eyes lit glint with sunray’s diamond bling,
*
‘Confess to me that you have lost your words?’
While gold sphere shone diffused through speckled lens,
distracted thoughts flew wild with passing birds,
their gliding shadows, darkened Yorkshire fens
*
with lie-wrapped memories dripping sleepless nights.
When petty trivia knotted up our tongues,
he folded all his heart around our fights,
eased life back in to hurt-clogged lungs.
*
As morning mist sighed sweet, and blue sky blushed,
in summer’s heady furnace, our lips brushed.
*****
Thank you for spending a moment with my words. If you like the way I play with letters from the alphabet, I would be honoured to have you as my guest, on my profile, where you can read whatever takes your fancy.
Teresa Renton has a first-class degree in English Linguistics and Language Creativity. Her work has previously been published or is forthcoming in Ink in Thirds, Flash Fiction Magazine, Across the Margin, Stick Figure Poetry, 101 Words, and elsewhere. She has recently been a finalist in Women on Writing’s Autumn ‘25 flash fiction competition.
If you'd like to read another poem:
About the Creator
Teresa Renton
Inhaling life, exhaling stories, poetry, prose, flash or fusions. An imperfect perfectionist who writes and recycles words. I write because I love how it feels to make ink patterns & form words, like pictures, on a page.
Keep reading
More stories from Teresa Renton and writers in Poets and other communities.
Autumn Daliance
An autumn leaf laughs Seductive in vibrant red Flirts with playful breeze ***** Thank you for spending a moment with my words. If you like the way I play with letters from the alphabet, I would be honoured to have you as my guest, on my profile, where you can read whatever takes your fancy.
By Teresa Renton4 months ago in Poets
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH4 days ago in Critique
Comments (2)
Lie-wrapped memories and hurt-clogged lungs, I especially loved that!
Well, that was just totally romantic. A lovely sonnet, Teresa!