The Island

Kerry Valkyrie Baldock Kelly

17 Jun, 2015 01:55 PM
Air rushes past my face as the iron bird disappears, visual panorama, 
Of sapphire, emerald and gold the dream of a life we once did behold.

My hand clutches the cord. Fear forces my grip, 
As the world rushes beneath me, 
Memories do mar and excruciatingly strip. 

Last year we did here meet, across the vast azure sea,
And under the shade of the imported palm trees. 

We did lie on the sand and bathe in the deep, 
Warm sea breezes and the children at our feet. 

And as I look down I fancy I see, 
Glittering shadows of how our life could now be. 

The oceanic roar, or a flood of hard rushing air, 
My wits distracted by the kayaks rolling on the cerulean glare. 

Deliberations and dreams they now incarcerate me, 
I remember feeling blissful a sensation I cannot foresee. 

My sight darkens to visions and all I can perceive are the crabs dancing in moonlight and the floodlit pools, 
The waiters there serving a feast for all. 

We were a family then, but you say that cannot be,
And now I only have a tropical land mass memory. 

Of Mynahs and tigers, toucans and sharks, 
Swirling great rivers and eroded arcs, 
Bustling coral and feeding fish, 
If I could go back to that it would fulfil my only wish. 

But if my life is only in contented memories drenched,
And each day a field of forlorn toil my recompense; 
Then tear the skin from my flesh, and sear the flesh from the bones, for it must be less painful than this, 
I have tried to forget the homeliness. 

And now as the breeze beats hard on my face, 
My one final joy is to others disgrace,
For there is one way to retain those days of joy ,
And it will only take simple courage and a loose grip to employ.
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