Lisle Ryder Poet Verse

Between Silver and Gold

Sand on the strand is washed 
by the ebb, with surf's surges
grinding each grain. I attend
to rock and shell, crushed into 
                              colour,

rivulets of microrojewels.
Between silver and gold;
I wrote our names, marking
thirty-eight years as one and 
                              counting.

Incoming tide will wash us out; 
but stranded, laid up together, 
watermarked into the sand, 
fresh patterns of silver and gold, 
                              reflecting,

we are entwined while the moon
orbits from neap to spring.
Phased into time, we are ever
the same, changing, as one
                              celebrating.

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