Down the path, and through the dunes of sea-grass and growth, past the foxes and crickets and gulls, down to the black beach, down to the Sea. The Moon lights the way, and ghosts are your guide On the quiet path to the Sea. Sand is cool, but the night is warm and alone you see the world in motion, Moon reflecting every motion, Every sound disappearing, caught by ghosts in the summer night, warm breeze lifts you as waves break in the summer night and the sea-grass sways with the wind beneath the stars and the salt-air Crying to the Sea in the summer night Where tears are lost, and ghosts
Are everywhere.
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2 comments | tags: alone, beach, breeze, crying, foxes, ghosts, gulls, hurt, lost, memories, night, ocean, original poetry, poetry, sea, sound, sounds, stars, summer, tears, wind, wolf, world | posted in Uncategorized
Between the Trees and
the Locust cries
You can hear the soft
moan of the Summer breeze
You ruffled my leaves
and I began to cry
the saplings will
All wither and Die
I was somewhere in between
two towering elder trees
I was overwhelmed
Opportunity ripped out from my arms
I went down to the creek
and took a Deep draw,
I rose to my feet and
Spread my limbs wide
and for the first time
I opened my Eyes.
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1 comment | tags: between, creek, cries, cry, deep draw, die, elder, eyes, feet, in, leaves, limbs, locust, originalpoetry.org, poetry, saplings, soft, somewhere, summer, summer breeze, trees | posted in Uncategorized
