makes me think of how I clasp on to my bed or any surface when I am sharing some intimacy with that special someone who really makes me feel like the time we spent together and everything we do is really worth it. Had never experienceds something like it before and for that I am so very pleased and thankful…
His lips touched where the clasp of my necklaces lay. There was something pleasantly comfortable about the feeling of the soft tissue on the back of my neck. It was romantic, but not suggestive. His arms wrapped around my waste, and in front of us was water. It was romantic moment, sure. But it wasn’t suggestive. He didn’t need anything from me, he just wanted me.
She clasped the hand to her left; it was a small hand, tiny really. It was too dark in here to tell, but it seemed like it was a child’s hand. There were more people in the room, she could here them, some crying, some whispering prayers.
We tried so hard to hold on to the roast beef horseradish afternoon sun crusty bread lemon merengue pie memory even as the strong wind of time blew it from us, even as death touched us on the shoulders and pointed over the low hills.
Clasping is stronger or weaker than holding, grasping? Clawing? Desperation in the act. She clasped and grasped at his old photo.
Beni
We had our hands clasped tightly. I am so in love with him and he knows it too, from the way I look at him to the way I talk to him. We have been dating for a few years now and I couldn’t be anymore happier. My friends told me he was definitely going to propose to me soon and I found the ring a few days ago. I am so excited, it is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.
Gilltyascharged
The dress was elaborate, too elaborate. It took seven handmaidens to fasten its 105 clasps all the way up the duchess’ back. She fussed the whole time, naturally, complaining about the time, the women, and the king’s attitude, about which the handmaidens had heard entirely too much.
Cara
I took a deep breath and reached forward, wrapping my hand around his. “I love you,” I whispered softly, my gaze locked on the ground.
I could hear his soft laugh, and he threaded his fingers through mine, clasping his hand tight around mine. “I love you too,” was his soft reply, and I looked up, shock flooding my veins. I couldn’t believe it; he loved me back.
Grinding pestle to mortar, into a powdered grasp, these rocks become pebbles, these goals become tasks.
each hour spent wasting is gone, but the days continue, wandered
The chain was broken around the clasp, so I couldn’t fix the necklace as it was. Instead, I palmed the jewel that had once drooped from the silver, placing it into a small oaken box that I kept in the corner of my room.
“Will it be safe there?” asked my grandmother, whose wrinkles turned to rivers on her face when bathed in the bedroom light.
I nodded. She sighed and sat down. I could hear her back audibly creak as she leaned forward.
Belinda Roddie
little locket baby, gold and hinged…. uncurling, fetal, stacked and tucked neatly in the womb, in swaddling clothes, in old laundry, green leaves. my hand rests on my right breast… i’m a mother…
i clasped her hand, she drug me into the back of the room. we talked. about nothing, about everything, all at once. it was sudden and nice, a kind sweet gesture. something genuine that i hadn’t seen in a while. she was a kind soul
allie
The jewel was clasped firmly in the hand of the witch. “Why are you staring at me?” she croaked.
“Oh, I’m not staring at you, I’m staring at the…the intolerably stinky fumes emanating from your cauldron,” I replied hastily.
She smirked. “You do not exist.”
Well, that was irrelevant.
Isis
I clasp my hands together and pray. My tears stream freely from my eyes. I can;t get out. There’s no escape. I can grasp the remains of what I used to hold dear. But it’s useless.
She clasped her purse tightly to her chest, her heart pounding to the beat of a wardrum as she glanced over her shoulder once again. “I know he’s been following me,” she thought, “He’s been behind me since 4th avenue. I need to lose him.” She picked up her pace, still clasping her purse
Stephen Campbell
I clasped my brothers hand and ran. I didn’t stop running. Sudenly I realised I had let go. Where was he? Was he taken? What would I tell my family? Was he dead-Captain Jack Harkness
Sore
He tried to clasp her shoulder before the free fall, but it was inevitable. The ocean had taken her to the depths. No more would he feel her hair brush his face in an embrace, no more would he touch that alabaster shoulder.
I remember one day at middle school, I was feeling quite blue, and I had no support whatsoever from anyone, because noone would ever talk to me or even give me a glance. At the end if the day, I remember I got a clasp from a complete stranger, that just came up to me and offered it to me, without me even requesting it. And that stranger told me ” Want me to help you in some way?”. I was trying to ring the bell on my door, that’s what he was reffering to…
uhum
when I clasped the hand of my Father, I could his love passing through me. I could feel the years of work,stress, disappointment flow into me. Most of alll I could feel his love, his joy,his pride and his tenderness.
Vickie Prince
he took the golden sword in his clasp, it shone like his eyes. he had discovered the sword when he was walking through the woods. he gripped it tightly between his fingers. it made a slit in his hand, the blood ran onto he sword and it began to glow. it vibrated in his bony hands so much he dropped it leaving the blood dripping from his hand
tiffany
She flicked her to one side and tipped her head forward. He passed the necklace under her chin and brought the ends up behind her neck. Fumbling he tried to fasten the clasp.
The little girl kept trying to show me but I couldn’t see it. She kept saying “Don’t you see it? Can’t you see it? Look it, right there at the tip of the needle.” I didn’t see anything and I have very good vision mind you. They were all gone after that. To this day I wonder, did she see something I couldn’t see? Was her sensory perception and awareness so much more advanced than mine that she was able to perceive something that small? Did she perceive it physically or was there some other essence that she saw? I had a bunch of other experiences of that kind in the Amazon with the local people. Whether mestizo or native, they had an uncanny connectedness to each other and to the natural environment that I couldn’t quite feel or put my finger on…
Holding on to the surface, I reach out and I pull another cold breath.
Sweating and panting from exhaustion, I slowly stand up.
Back to back.
My knuckles whiten as I push the trigger.
A last defense.
A clashing sound of iron.
In the reac of my hands and I clasp for the plants, where is the life in me, where is the life in green? life in rush or morbid silence as I feel it now?
Do I really want it to end like this, but can I change my mind now?
There is no turning back and I’m happy, I hold on harder as I end with a breath. slowly closing my eyes.
Simon
With my hands clasped together in prayer I despartly pleaded for another chance just one more try…. And then the phone rang, I whipped the years from my face and rose to my feet !…
Clasp, I found a wasp, what a waste of my haste, of my past, at last I have that mask, holy deer, I don’t know what I am doing…..
jirafa
she clasped his hand tightly, like she was afraid he’d slip away. they’d bee broken from the start, but she couldn’t let go. he was far too important. she clasped his hand tightly, but he had already slipped away.
she clasped his hand tight, like she was afraid he’d let go too soon. the truth is, he had no intention of letting go. ever. she clasped his hand tight, like she was afraid he’d let go too soon, and he did the same.
Rayne
Grasp the hand
Just one hand. Which o e
Can you guess
But grasp what’s held the nearest
The distant hand is distant pearl
Or mystic jewel
But don’t reach that far
The nearest hand is shrinking too
And that’s your shore
Clasp. It now now
This is your own shabby self you clasp
Dented bent and slow
Your golden clasp gleams
Beyond your hand
The furthest reach won’t touch
The distant sun
Icarus Icarus
The lucky one
You have to wings
Take the hand that’s held
And clasp it
That’s the touch to feel
It is a real touch
And that’s something after all
I fumbled with the clasp on the necklace, and it fell to the floor. With a almost melodic tinkle, the glass pendant shattered. I bent down to pick it up, being careful not to cut my fingers on the tiny shards. There was something melted into the glass.
clasp hands, sweat and strain, under the sounds of teeth grinding, grasp my hand from the bottom of the sea, to each other everything we might be, grasp hold of the iron bar, the battery smell of a pull-up in gym class, the red hands.
The shut my cluth, locking away the unlit matches. I would never open it again. Itwas theleast i could do. I told him i would never smoke. And then we were in the car, he was drunk passed ot and i took a puff. I never saw the car comming.
JaneDoe
all i know about a clasp is that it is a gadget to hold things in place. It is used mostly by
Edward Sessoms
I clasp at straws, reach for answers. Waiting for the end of the wait, the countdown. Being home is no better because no matter what, I’m always here and she’s there.
The ruby choker was weighty against the thin insubstantiality of her skin. The red of it, intense and bloody and gleaming.
“Well?” She snapped. I looked down, at the clasp, and snapped it shut. She shook her dark hair out and surveyed her reflection.
“It will do.” She said. The jewels at her throat glimmered, as bright as split suns but not nearly as warm. I nodded.
“Where is it?” she asked. “The shoe with the clasp, the other one? Have you seen it? The right one. I have to find the other one and need to get to work.” She was sorting through a pile of clothes heaped on the floor between the bed and window.
“Wear the other pair, the blue ones you wore the other day,” I replied.
“They don’t match.” she snapped.
“Don’t blame me for trying to help. If you kept your clothes tidy you wouldn’t have this problem.”
“I don’t know how it gets in this state,” she said having finally gotten to the bottom of the pile.
“Again,don”t blame me. I don’t wear them when you are out. Your things are where you left them.”
“You are right, the front door. I would have taken them off at the front door,” she said as she left the room. “See you tonight.”
makes me think of how I clasp on to my bed or any surface when I am sharing some intimacy with that special someone who really makes me feel like the time we spent together and everything we do is really worth it. Had never experienceds something like it before and for that I am so very pleased and thankful…
His lips touched where the clasp of my necklaces lay. There was something pleasantly comfortable about the feeling of the soft tissue on the back of my neck. It was romantic, but not suggestive. His arms wrapped around my waste, and in front of us was water. It was romantic moment, sure. But it wasn’t suggestive. He didn’t need anything from me, he just wanted me.
Clasp my hands in yours. :D
She clasped the hand to her left; it was a small hand, tiny really. It was too dark in here to tell, but it seemed like it was a child’s hand. There were more people in the room, she could here them, some crying, some whispering prayers.
We tried so hard to hold on to the roast beef horseradish afternoon sun crusty bread lemon merengue pie memory even as the strong wind of time blew it from us, even as death touched us on the shoulders and pointed over the low hills.
Clasping is stronger or weaker than holding, grasping? Clawing? Desperation in the act. She clasped and grasped at his old photo.
We had our hands clasped tightly. I am so in love with him and he knows it too, from the way I look at him to the way I talk to him. We have been dating for a few years now and I couldn’t be anymore happier. My friends told me he was definitely going to propose to me soon and I found the ring a few days ago. I am so excited, it is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.
The dress was elaborate, too elaborate. It took seven handmaidens to fasten its 105 clasps all the way up the duchess’ back. She fussed the whole time, naturally, complaining about the time, the women, and the king’s attitude, about which the handmaidens had heard entirely too much.
I took a deep breath and reached forward, wrapping my hand around his. “I love you,” I whispered softly, my gaze locked on the ground.
I could hear his soft laugh, and he threaded his fingers through mine, clasping his hand tight around mine. “I love you too,” was his soft reply, and I looked up, shock flooding my veins. I couldn’t believe it; he loved me back.
He loved me back.
He loved me back!
Grinding pestle to mortar, into a powdered grasp, these rocks become pebbles, these goals become tasks.
each hour spent wasting is gone, but the days continue, wandered
The chain was broken around the clasp, so I couldn’t fix the necklace as it was. Instead, I palmed the jewel that had once drooped from the silver, placing it into a small oaken box that I kept in the corner of my room.
“Will it be safe there?” asked my grandmother, whose wrinkles turned to rivers on her face when bathed in the bedroom light.
I nodded. She sighed and sat down. I could hear her back audibly creak as she leaned forward.
little locket baby, gold and hinged…. uncurling, fetal, stacked and tucked neatly in the womb, in swaddling clothes, in old laundry, green leaves. my hand rests on my right breast… i’m a mother…
i clasped her hand, she drug me into the back of the room. we talked. about nothing, about everything, all at once. it was sudden and nice, a kind sweet gesture. something genuine that i hadn’t seen in a while. she was a kind soul
The jewel was clasped firmly in the hand of the witch. “Why are you staring at me?” she croaked.
“Oh, I’m not staring at you, I’m staring at the…the intolerably stinky fumes emanating from your cauldron,” I replied hastily.
She smirked. “You do not exist.”
Well, that was irrelevant.
I clasp my hands together and pray. My tears stream freely from my eyes. I can;t get out. There’s no escape. I can grasp the remains of what I used to hold dear. But it’s useless.
She clasped her purse tightly to her chest, her heart pounding to the beat of a wardrum as she glanced over her shoulder once again. “I know he’s been following me,” she thought, “He’s been behind me since 4th avenue. I need to lose him.” She picked up her pace, still clasping her purse
I clasped my brothers hand and ran. I didn’t stop running. Sudenly I realised I had let go. Where was he? Was he taken? What would I tell my family? Was he dead-Captain Jack Harkness
He tried to clasp her shoulder before the free fall, but it was inevitable. The ocean had taken her to the depths. No more would he feel her hair brush his face in an embrace, no more would he touch that alabaster shoulder.
I remember one day at middle school, I was feeling quite blue, and I had no support whatsoever from anyone, because noone would ever talk to me or even give me a glance. At the end if the day, I remember I got a clasp from a complete stranger, that just came up to me and offered it to me, without me even requesting it. And that stranger told me ” Want me to help you in some way?”. I was trying to ring the bell on my door, that’s what he was reffering to…
when I clasped the hand of my Father, I could his love passing through me. I could feel the years of work,stress, disappointment flow into me. Most of alll I could feel his love, his joy,his pride and his tenderness.
he took the golden sword in his clasp, it shone like his eyes. he had discovered the sword when he was walking through the woods. he gripped it tightly between his fingers. it made a slit in his hand, the blood ran onto he sword and it began to glow. it vibrated in his bony hands so much he dropped it leaving the blood dripping from his hand
She flicked her to one side and tipped her head forward. He passed the necklace under her chin and brought the ends up behind her neck. Fumbling he tried to fasten the clasp.
The little girl kept trying to show me but I couldn’t see it. She kept saying “Don’t you see it? Can’t you see it? Look it, right there at the tip of the needle.” I didn’t see anything and I have very good vision mind you. They were all gone after that. To this day I wonder, did she see something I couldn’t see? Was her sensory perception and awareness so much more advanced than mine that she was able to perceive something that small? Did she perceive it physically or was there some other essence that she saw? I had a bunch of other experiences of that kind in the Amazon with the local people. Whether mestizo or native, they had an uncanny connectedness to each other and to the natural environment that I couldn’t quite feel or put my finger on…
Holding on to the surface, I reach out and I pull another cold breath.
Sweating and panting from exhaustion, I slowly stand up.
Back to back.
My knuckles whiten as I push the trigger.
A last defense.
A clashing sound of iron.
In the reac of my hands and I clasp for the plants, where is the life in me, where is the life in green? life in rush or morbid silence as I feel it now?
Do I really want it to end like this, but can I change my mind now?
There is no turning back and I’m happy, I hold on harder as I end with a breath. slowly closing my eyes.
With my hands clasped together in prayer I despartly pleaded for another chance just one more try…. And then the phone rang, I whipped the years from my face and rose to my feet !…
Clasp, I found a wasp, what a waste of my haste, of my past, at last I have that mask, holy deer, I don’t know what I am doing…..
she clasped his hand tightly, like she was afraid he’d slip away. they’d bee broken from the start, but she couldn’t let go. he was far too important. she clasped his hand tightly, but he had already slipped away.
she clasped his hand tight, like she was afraid he’d let go too soon. the truth is, he had no intention of letting go. ever. she clasped his hand tight, like she was afraid he’d let go too soon, and he did the same.
Grasp the hand
Just one hand. Which o e
Can you guess
But grasp what’s held the nearest
The distant hand is distant pearl
Or mystic jewel
But don’t reach that far
The nearest hand is shrinking too
And that’s your shore
Clasp. It now now
This is your own shabby self you clasp
Dented bent and slow
Your golden clasp gleams
Beyond your hand
The furthest reach won’t touch
The distant sun
Icarus Icarus
The lucky one
You have to wings
Take the hand that’s held
And clasp it
That’s the touch to feel
It is a real touch
And that’s something after all
I fumbled with the clasp on the necklace, and it fell to the floor. With a almost melodic tinkle, the glass pendant shattered. I bent down to pick it up, being careful not to cut my fingers on the tiny shards. There was something melted into the glass.
clasp hands, sweat and strain, under the sounds of teeth grinding, grasp my hand from the bottom of the sea, to each other everything we might be, grasp hold of the iron bar, the battery smell of a pull-up in gym class, the red hands.
The shut my cluth, locking away the unlit matches. I would never open it again. Itwas theleast i could do. I told him i would never smoke. And then we were in the car, he was drunk passed ot and i took a puff. I never saw the car comming.
all i know about a clasp is that it is a gadget to hold things in place. It is used mostly by
I clasp at straws, reach for answers. Waiting for the end of the wait, the countdown. Being home is no better because no matter what, I’m always here and she’s there.
a clasp in a locket. heart shaped contraption, holding things together and pulling apart. you clasp my wrist my hand you make my breath weak.
The ruby choker was weighty against the thin insubstantiality of her skin. The red of it, intense and bloody and gleaming.
“Well?” She snapped. I looked down, at the clasp, and snapped it shut. She shook her dark hair out and surveyed her reflection.
“It will do.” She said. The jewels at her throat glimmered, as bright as split suns but not nearly as warm. I nodded.
“Where is it?” she asked. “The shoe with the clasp, the other one? Have you seen it? The right one. I have to find the other one and need to get to work.” She was sorting through a pile of clothes heaped on the floor between the bed and window.
“Wear the other pair, the blue ones you wore the other day,” I replied.
“They don’t match.” she snapped.
“Don’t blame me for trying to help. If you kept your clothes tidy you wouldn’t have this problem.”
“I don’t know how it gets in this state,” she said having finally gotten to the bottom of the pile.
“Again,don”t blame me. I don’t wear them when you are out. Your things are where you left them.”
“You are right, the front door. I would have taken them off at the front door,” she said as she left the room. “See you tonight.”
I don’t know the meaning of this word -sorry!
grasp
cling
remembering dreams
and forgotten words
catching before it slips
through the abyss called
present
I clasp for a future