A Walk at the Shore

Written by: Lou Schreiberg

Sobering grays of alabaster
Winds that fly through alleys crumble
Time comes nigh to flaunt the tresses
As breezes press in playful tumble


The day came, the shore awaited
For sandaled walk 'pon roughly plow,
Clad in grain and pebble plated
In warm sienna of an artist’s brow

This walk on shore of excited senses
Drawn of self through nature’s sight,
No longer hours of e'er tense
Fancies that vanish o'er swift of night

Breezes wafted with soft intender
Visions of desire were e'er so keen
Past became gentle and time a mender
A blending of hope and where I’ve been

Yes, I know of water’s wend
That alabaster will render its plea once more,
Still, I know that balmy breeze and sand
Will ask anew for a walk at the shore