Poetry surfs on a wave of words
Heading for the beach of simile and the metaphor dunes
If you surf too long the moment is gone
The wave swallows the poem, rolls it along
And throws it on the beach, to splutter and cough
Painfully
Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The Cheesesellers Wife 
Wow !! Brilliant !!
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Thanks!
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Better catch that wave while you can 🌊
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There was a big one yesterday….😉
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Awesome Kim! I loved it! Xx
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I’ve been struggling with several poems this week….
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“The wave swallows the poem” – great.
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Thanks!
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Good waves. I like catching poetry fish. Once gutted, they can be breaded with crumbs and parmesan cheese and fried in rhyme oil for a moment with shalls and a splash of wine.
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Surely they also need a bit of seasoning with rhythm? ;)
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Indeed. iambic pentameter won’t surf and needs its 12-bar blues. The triplet dude is a poet who skis to rhythm and blues and gin and tonic and triplet girls. ‘But that dog don’t hunt,’ nor surf.
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I can’t sing those twelve bar blues….,
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