Tentatively touching the warmish water

Encouragement proffered by chosen coach

I stepped in

 

Cold, then gently warming as my body

adjusted to the change

Growing accustomed to the sinking safety

Strokes learnt to progress onward

Confidence growing

 

No need for coach, I can swim alone

 

White dress, red roses, vows murmured without thought

Sinking into married state

too young. Bobbing, diving, drowning

Voices raised. I yearn for freedom.

Deep end now holds no fear for me.

 

No need for float

Buoyed up on hope

I swim alone.

(An exercise at Creative Writing  at Belfast Met – merge two completely different topics into one prose piece)