Plot Picture Challenge 6

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adept
  5. Advanced
  6. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
A picture is worth a thousand words, as is often quoted.
How does the picture below speak to you? Perhaps as a poem? Perhaps a roleplay idea? Maybe a story?
Whatever comes to your mind, write those words down! All is well and welcome, whether a couple of sentences or more!

MichellePapadopoulos_BelowtheSurface.jpg
 
The water calls me
Ebb and flow of my heartbeat
Mirrored in the waves

I can see another me
Free to dive beneath below

I wish I could be
Wild as her flowing gold hair
As the ocean's roar

But still I find myself here
Watching her from the shoreline
 
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  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Greenie
Alyssa was a pretty girl,
A girl with ginger hair.
She walked upon the land above,
And never had a care.

And down below the surface,
A mermaid watched her walk,
She looked on with curiosity,
And wished that they could talk.

She sang to her sweet melodies,
And called Alyssa's name,
Her voice rang with desperation,
Until one day Alyssa came.

The two of them were best of friends,
And they would never part,
Because not a storm can tear away,
A bond forged in the heart.
 
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When the world was particularly grey, and the people she met seemed hollowed out by the worries of life, Jeanie would go down to the river. There were no busy traffic lanes or iron-railed que lines at the river, just a quiet, living in harmony with the gentle swirling of the waters and the love songs of bugs and frogs.

It was there that Jeanie's worries would shut their mouths, too embarrassed by the impolite eccoes of their own voices to babble on. In that soft silence she could remember her childhood, when dreams were as real as you made them and never once closed off by iron curtains of time and law. There the roots of the willow trees streched down and down for miles through cool clear waters, where there were mysteries and wonders to make your heart fill up with peace. Jeanie would touch hands with the mermaid girl who lives beneath the river calm, and be healed.

Oh to carry some of that water with you into lands dying of thirst, how far would you go to find that bankside, to dip your toes into that soft mud and dream?
 
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Reactions: PoetLore
They say everyone has a twin somewhere roaming about the earth waiting to find their other self. I never believed in those tales, or in much of anything really until the day I happened upon the river tree. The river tree grew out into the water far beyond the shoreline. Most of its roots stretched down deep to the river bottom and made an odd netting beneath the surface.

Things had been particularly stressful that week and i felt the need to unwind and let it all go. I took off my shoes and walked out onto the tick roots of the tree well out over the water. The view took my breath away and I found myself sitting on that thick root and looking down into the water. One finger stretched out to prick the surface of the water, but I pulled back not wanting to disturb the glass-like smoothness of the surface.

But then I saw her, hair the same golden as mine floating around her int he water. I did reach out then and felt the touch of her fingertip and I knew, she was my twin though from an entirely different world. I smiled and watched as she did too. I felt the day melt away and be replaced by peace and joy in such a way i cannot explain. I often sit on that root, and share time with my twin. We cannot communicate in any way but that single touch, but it seems to be enough for both of us.
 
One night I dreamt a dream of the sea,
of waves and foam becoming of me,
with fish's tail and seaweed hair floating so free -
that night I dreamt, I dreamt of the sea.

Upon morning after, kin to fish I was not,
though the dream I had not forgot,
floating on current, my fins so taut
searching for something, something I sought.

How cruel to wake to legs cramping and aching,
to a wan day not even worth the taking.
I cursed my flesh the error it was making,
of the illness, that illness, under which I was breaking.

I took a swim in the ocean that day,
as if to recapture the dream's magic someway,
of losing myself to the ocean's soft sway,
in the cool waters, the waters of the bay.

I lay on my back to relax and unwind,
in the cool waters, which were so kind
to a poor shell which sickness did rudely bind,
and yearned so for freedom, for freedom it pined.

Perhaps my petition was heard by the ocean,
for the waves swelled in a cradling motion,
and I felt so strongly this odd, furtive notion,
of such a strong feeling, a feeling of devotion.

And on a whim, I let myself sink
into the water, into the soft drink
and as I fell, I had time to think
what was this feeling, this sudden instinct?

I kicked out my legs, surprised to feel
that their strength was full, a feel so surreal,
and I wriggled, I waved, I lashed out like an eel,
with this newfound thew, with newfound zeal.

I looked upon my legs in the murk
and felt my heart patter berserk
as beneath me I did see deep down lurk
fins long and lush, a lush, profound work.

Beneath the water did I stay then
and out of the water never came I again.