Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Winter tide

Playing on a winter beach
Sun's Warmth still far from reach
While wet and cold dare two bare feet
Precious moments I will keep

Lost in quiet, a forgotten place
My loose string of footprints trail through space
Now washed with waves that drowned the race
I feel the smile that finds my face

The smell of seaweed loosely rolled
With shells and rope and boards that hold
Wind-rows of stories all untold
That I with driftwood can unfold

The moon has whispered to the tide
The ocean turns and needs to rise
My footprints change in shape and size
And through the mist my soul can ride

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