My old friend
Leave his turquoise dreams alone
Allow your soul
to breathe again
Jump the fishbowl of his hold
Tied with ropes
Pull you straight back home to us
Give you strength to find your way
You’re a pearl, Pearl. Come back home where pearls of white are true. You’re not a goldfish anymore.
NOTE: This is the last prompt from Big Tent Poetry. We each were to supply lines from some of our older poems and list them. Then we were to pick one or two to use as this week’s prompt. I used a part of a line from Irene, “My dreams are the color of turquoise.” Haven’t been involved with Big Tent long, but I have enjoyed them.. Thank you.