Errant.
Lullaby shush of evening ebb tide
seeps
into late air
as hands
meet to capture clandestine
on deserted sand.
Bold footprints in shadowy twilight
appear
from secretive
corners
as recondite hearts deny
errant concordance.
Tread cautiously lovers for maybe
time
which orders fate's
changes
will mutate covert deceit
to contrite heartache.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: June 8th, 2020 04:15
- Comment from author about the poem: The crossed fingers in the picture put my pen to work on the often dangerous game of Covert - - hope you enjoy .
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
Offline)
Comments4
Good write Fay. Could I adapt your other poem on 'love'?
By all means adapt my poem on Love dear Orchi.......... will look forward to reading it too.
It always ends in tears. I'll stick to memories of the good times i had while they lasted and look to the future without risk of more of them there tears.
Mind you, I'm up for a bit of flirting.
Lotta truth in your words today.
Yes there has to be good times to remember D.A. - it all depends on a stable clandestine eh ? Thanks a load for your visit and comment.
there is something about the word errant that makes even the hardest of hardliners smile.. or is that a wince I feel forming...…
You nailed it Fay.... is it true that double agents have twice the fun..... they sure do live dangerously.....
Neville
Yes "errant" being archaic was nearly dumped at one stage but those crossed fingers got my memory wincing - - clandestine fun can turn insipid when heartache sets in.......... glad you think I nailed it a bit........................x
In life there can be many who trade falsehoods in love, not caring just wanting. Fine words Fay.
Andy
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