Poetry | Stories | Photography
Your heart yearns for the sea.
Sitting in your office, you drift towards the southern saltwater.
Lost in the south sea, you drift unnoticed and unafraid of what may become of you.
You float on the waves, the sun begins to set, and you think of nothing.
You were all about those pretty pools
filtered into oblivion on social media.
I preferred violent seas, as the sound
of waves crashing made me feel alive.
You could never understand those
violent seas and I could never understand
your love for pretty pools in paradise.
I stood on the shore of a storm raging
sea while you watched from a pretty pool;
I walked into the sea and found home.
The music of the sea,
I hear you play for me.
The music of the sea,
You help me to be me.
The music of the sea,
I become so very free.
The music of the sea,
You helped me to see.
A cliff by the sea,
where we once used to be,
there I dream of you once more.
A cliff by the sea,
where we were never to be,
here I dream of you no more.
“The stories she told! I don’t see ‘er so well now, yet she’s in my heart still telling stories.”
“She must have been an interesting woman.”
“My Lasse, she was no woman unless women are made of water and shells. No, she’s the sea! The sea is the best storyteller.”
A wild wind howls,
cold and free
from your aching.
The sea is freezing,
ice boulders
sit lining the shore.
A green windswept
set of ancient
mountains far away.
The sea is so loud,
calling you
to stay the course.
You fall to the sand,
free again
on your island home.
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.
Sitting on the couch
Music plays you to sleep
Slumped on the couch
You drift towards dreams
Sleeping on the couch
Sea Water moves over you
Salty sand on the couch
You wonder where you are
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.
I dreamt of the absent sea.
No saltwater stirring the waves,
no moon or sea for you and me.
When I awoke in the night,
there was no morning light,
yet the moonlight was bright.
I dreamt of the absent sea.
No saltwater stirs the waves,
no moon nor you, soon no me.
