Drifting Away

A sea smell drifts across the street, into my room, and I am called towards the waves.
Drifting along with my favourite thongs and my togs, off I float away.
The sea sounds sing a song of waves, boats, humans, and the thrill of another day.
Dipping a toe, then a foot, then my whole I am lost in amongst waves.

The Shore

Mayhem grows as the boat splutters and growls.
Dark plumes escape from the engine.
Something wet touches your foot.
Nothing is left for you to love.
The water is rising fast.

Panic grips your heart.
You consider certain options.
No one will remember your writing.
Dark plumes will be mocked forever.
Mayhem lingers as you swim for the shore.

Standing on the Shore

A wave breaks the sadness
you feel looking at the sea.

Young hearts shouldn’t hurt like
yours hurts under a perfect sky.

Another wave crashes into
many pieces of aquamarine;
water gems breaking and
moving back into the sea.

You take a false step forward,
not grasping the consequences.

A wave misses the target,
failing to deliver the blow.

Your heart moves you to stay,
so you remain standing
on the shore, heart-pounding;
shivering at the thought of
what could have been:
you, the aquamarines,
the sea none the wiser.

Still Life

Sitting and standing,
painting a still life of fruit.

The right light moves in today. Fruits
once alive become immortal on the
canvas, as part of their being, will
forever live in the paint, the brush.

A calm moves through the studio, as
this place has the right feeling today.

The last stroke taken, the canvas is
something new;
pieces of fruit falling from an
unknown place in the sea.