Walking the waters

boats_newriverIf I were Jesus
I would walk on water too
not for sensational splash headlines
just the feel of droplets unpeeling underfoot
lightness of being on surface tension
the way a breeze tests tensile struts of spider webs

waterstriders do the walk on buoyant feet
all two hundred and forty two insectas skate
to nowhere in particular it seems
aquatic birds paddle-slap short lengths til wing borne
or slide the level plane in wave-buckling returns
and in spheres of suffocation, we too can tread water
like desperate hamsters in a wheel, lest we drown

but I make do with walking the waters
perambulating pools, skirting seashores
or as the parallel pedestrian in riparian zones
past moorings and the limitations of boats beyond the navigable
befriended by the constant camaraderie of  river

I’ve gone where the bournes are born
followed downstream the widening gathering pace
to see them vanish in an evangelic dash to baptism

© Laura Granby 2015

Uniting with poets on the theme of Rivers for the Midweek Motif


salute poem - canadian war memorial, green parkThe boy climbed aboard
a ship-shaped playground of burnished granite
terra firma for adventure; the paternal gaze permissive
of distance growing between them
gave impetus to daring-do, and narrowing walls
mustered him further to the apex

then just before climax
blinded momentarily by late autumn sun
he hesitated;  a magical happenstance
etched leaves rising to the third dimension
crunched underfoot and the point of it all
shone subliminal through the passage of time

dead reckoning to Halifax the cusp’s co-ordination
for wars in Europe, port of embarkation
maple-leaved men spanned seas of dominion
roll-calls counted by the million

child-like he touched his head, perplexed
the boy saluted

© Laura Granby 2015

Canadian War Memorial, Green Park, London:

Something for Remembrance Sunday as I’m joining with the many talents at poetry pantry

Octopus jamboree

octopus jamboree - enjambment poem - eight limbed pussy in limbo
dances at the shipwrecking seas
on-set of adventure by tiptoe
in the hold; to reccy the car
goings on of the lost
and foundering depart
meant for deliverance

Pearls for eyes* and tooth
some-rsaulting grin, a velvet prod
noses the in-betweens of star and port
beam of murky light; nemesis in braille for
pining the waste of want octopus counts
up its chainlink of token anchors
away in the straddled lair.

*nod to Arial as Shakespeare & Eliot

Venturing into enjambment @dversepoets whereby the end may-be the start of the next line or the word is hyphenated in-to two!