A seventh Lost Soul (From the mind’s eye)

She has a calmness that confidently greets the stranger long before speech is needed. Her curves stand out from a distance, the fill of her practical cotton shirt and faded blue jeans is easy on the eye from any angle. That akubra, somehow fixed to her head while bending over the vines, her straight long hair hanging down not able to complete the same trick, those inverted kind eyes watching you approach, from between two confidently parted slender legs that seem to have more length than is necessary for one person.1

Comfortable, brown boots, practical attire for the lady of the vines, how they long for a dab of polish, and have grown accustomed to living on the veranda at night. She loves those boots and yet when it comes to really being close, well they just have to accept her touch, she offers closeness without the need to explain it every other minute.2

The house is practical, not exactly tidy, but clean enough to keep her from jumping into an impulsive frenzy of action, with mops, brooms, dusters and even a pre-loved tooth brush in hand.3

Is she happy? She is complex, and deep down believes only the mentally ill could be truly happy with this world; but then without expecting it she sees someone quietly walk by, and the light to her face is turned on yet again. 4

5

Comments

• right now

  Adding your comment:
• 
  angelica
  October 8, 2006
  Edit | Reply

  Beaut

  AHHH, a bit of romance in the air..Love is very beautiful, to feel love from that certain someone who walks by. Hold onto them and don't let them go.
  superb wattle.

  
• 
  Barbara
  July 15, 2006
  
  Edit | Reply

  Cool

  Interesting. I don't know how I missed this one. Well done on the descriptive level, although the third sentence seems a bit long. Is this something that you are planning to continue, or just a snippet of an idea?
  
  Paragraph three sounds like me ...not exactly tidy, but clean enough.

  
• • 
    wattle
    July 16, 2006
    
    Edit | Reply

    Thank you

    You are very kind to this poor old scribbler from way, way, away; thank you. This was a painting exercise to help my brain stop slowing. Andy is real 'lostsoul7'
• 
  wattle
  February 12, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you Michelle, you must like this - keep making comments until I find out enough about you and I'm sure you will one day read 'A Heart's Soul'
• heartnsoul
  February 12, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  I sit here with tears streaming down my cheeks, for I find such overwhelming beauty in these few words. I feel myself inexplicably pulled into the landscape and feel as if I am there! Wait a moment, yep, I did, I commented on this before!! Ah.....wattle my dear, dear wattle. Now I know why the tears. I already said much the same thing.How strange I should find my way here again on another sleepless night! I came to my 'puter and this is the first place I came to.
  ~Michelle~
• 
  wattle
  February 3, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you 'silica', it's nice to have people look at my scribble, it makes me feel more worthy. I fixed the typo (thank you again).
• 
  silica
  February 3, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  
  I saw the allusion to a photographer in one of the comments but I think it is more like a rather good pencil sketch – I’m not quite sure how that fits in the literary world but perhaps that is not of importance…¿?
  
  You have a typo – ‘more length then ~ than¿?
  
  
  
• 
  wattle
  January 29, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you Ms ‘Kethry’, you do say the kindest things. But, but, but, your writing draws attention for the quality it presents. I attract only sympathetic emotions for the old fool who would dare pretend to be able to scribble. Thank you.
• 
  Kethry
  January 29, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  She is a complex woman and you are a complex writer. I love the way you get inside the skin of your character. Someone once said they liked my writing because it was real. I like yours for the same reason and because it lives.
• 
  wattle
  January 18, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Ms 'Seether', you are a powerful influence, one inverted inversion just flew off the page. You are always wise and able to see straight, around sharp corners. Thank you lady of x-ray insight, you are always kind to this poor old scribbling scribbler.
• 
  January 16, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  hey you.. you capture moments like a professional photographer, the light perfect the scene caught as naturally as if you had brought me there beside you to see. Watching the image and feeling the breeze. You give more though than the dimensions of a photograph however well taken, you flesh out the soul and put a hue to the cheeks kissed by the suns rays.
  
  I do have one tiny small thing though.. I hummmphed at the double usage if inverted..
  allow me this grumble becuse i did love this so.
  
• 
  wattle
  January 11, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you, Ms Cutie, you are kind to keep visiting this poor old fellow.
• cutiepie
  January 11, 2006
  Edit | Reply

  great

  I like this my friend...really like it. and as for falling apart from the seams, you could be right
• 
  wattle
  January 11, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you ‘lostaoul7’, I wasn’t at all sure you were going to claim these words. I thought you might hide back in the seventh row of vines. The boots were an easy guess. Legs; are you sure, have another look tonight I’m sure they must be longer then you think. Hair; some beer and an iron and some of that 'girlie' paint can make that true. Thank you for allowing me to bare you naked in full public view. – Your OK ‘grape lady’ and I don’t believe for one moment that you have to wear thongs because you can’t tie shoe laces.
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you, 'Blu', you always manage to support my scribble.
• Warrior7
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Wattle this is absolutely beautiful, i love the picture of the vineyard as it ties the story together and you have me pretty much down to a T, oh except for the long legs and straight hair, lol. The bit about the brown boots and how they long for a dab of polish is absolutely spot on and yes they do live on the veranda. I very much love this write and i thank you so very much for writing it as it gives me a warm feeling when i read it.. Thank you Wattle you are a true kind soul
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thanks Queen, another phase - I thought that was your que. ( )
• 
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  very very nice. great job with writing this. was worth the read. enjoyed.
  
  blu
• 
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Excellent story, I know she will love it. She is a complex woman. I think you describe her very well. I think you should write another story about her next adventure
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you Kunjal, I try. (I’m touched)
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Thank you Ms ‘Barbie’, you saying 'this is flawless' is very, very comforting. I guess there is some hope, even for me. –--- Germaine Greer said 'it', I saw her interviewed; she was asked, ‘Is Germaine Greer really happy’ --- I was impressed.
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Ms ‘Aliana’ (stop it), I’m so, so uncomplicated and ordinary. Next you will have me looking down from high places (I promise you it won’t/can’t happen). – What you see is all there is; I have thrown that pen out it was broken. – Thank you (mystery lady) - (be careful; tears may wash away the soul)
• 
  wattle
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  ‘heartnsoul’, you have me in a spin. I’m too ignorant to know what stories and prose are and are not, or what a viticulturist does. I thought they were all the same thing.
  Wait, my dictionary said; prose – Ordinary speech or writing, without metrical structure (To speak or write in a dull, tiresome style) ----- Story – An account or recital of an event or a series of events, either true or fictitious (To decorate with scenes representing historical or legendary events) (Something viewed as or providing material for a literary or journalistic treatment) ----- viticulturist - The cultivation of grapes. ----- Wait, now I get it; OK, this is an image (prose; from my minds eye) ----- A secret - Last night I read a poem by Sara Teasdale titled ‘those who love’ (it’s what a ‘read only poets’ does)
  Those who love the most,
  Do not talk of their love,
  Francesca, Guinevere,
  Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
  In the fragrant gardens of heaven
  Are silent, or speak if at all
  Of fragile inconsequent things.
  
  And a woman I used to know
  Who loved one man from her youth,
  Against the strength of the fates
  Fighting in somber pride
  Never spoke of this thing,
  But hearing his name by chance,
  A light would pass over her face.
  www.links2love.com/poetry_74.htm
  When I finished, I wrote some scribble (I wish I could tell you exactly why I wrote it – but it’s not really just my secret/story). -------
  But, now we both know; I’m such a fraud. – Thank you, Michelle.
• 
  fathom me
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply

  Brilliant

  Thank you wattle for writing this & sharing it.
  Another one of my favs... I'm sure many women here, like me (guilty!) can relate in some or another way
• Barbie
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  This is flawless and I love the line: 'deep down believes only the mentally ill could be truly happy with this world'. I have no suggestions. This reminds me of me in places. Barbie. Xx
• 
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply
  Well i have to agree with heartnsoul's comments... there are parts in this that just speak to you (being me) and again almost brought me to tears.
  
  This is a very poetic and emotive write Sir Wattle and I so know that you have so many more hidden talents in that broken tipped blue biro of yours ...
  
  
  BEAUTIFUL!!!
• heartnsoul
  January 10, 2006
  Edit | Reply

  Superb !

  This is not a story my dear wattle, this is prose! Spoken with love, tenderness and adiration. There are parts of this that just seem to speak to me and only for me. And yet, I think every pair of eyes that beats with a female heart gazing upon this page, will feel the same as I.
  I sit at this moment and think how fitting,that in my sleepless night, coming here to read, it should be this wonderful page of prose that I should happen upon.
  ~Michelle~