It was the silence
that caught you out –
like the soft middle of a meringue.
Like waking on an opalescent cloud,
or thinking yourself lolling
on a branch of a white cherry tree,
scents mizzling your head.
Flicker through sea foam,
finger-ripples that brought Aphrodite
to Limassol’s shore, anchored
to her pearly shell.
Walk along a melting ice tunnel
in Chamonix. Each droplet
has a story to tell.
Pressure builds, omits a sigh
when breath exhaled
disturbs this paradise.
Behind thin suburban walls,
as you snatch at guilty pleasures,
a faint susurration, no more.
‘It was the silence’ by Jocelyn Simms received a special mention in the Sentinel Literary Quarterly Poetry Competition (March/April 2020) judged by Mandy Pannett.