Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
I remember the rock pools of my youth,
the South Atlantic trapped in tiny worlds
of clear, cold water and drifts of sandy white,
strewn with shells, anemones and tiny fish,
and once came a little octopus from a cave.
There we scrambled on the rocks and dabbled
our feet in those limpid ponds, surprised limpets
to pull them from their perches under a southern sun.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 11.16.22
Prompt: Pick up a book, turn to page 21, and without looking, put your finger on a spot on the page. That’s your first word. Then do that again on page 34. Now you have two words to include in your poem. (Below your poem, please share the book you used to find the words!)
Note: The highlighted words were taken at random from the required pages of The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame.
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