Hope, Not Yet Lost
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I stand upon this aging wooden bridge
peering into depths of the swollen stream
a fingerling flowing to waters of the sea
grief is rhythmic like the beat of my heart
tears ebbing in rise with the morning tide
each breath escapes in a murmured sigh
Three months gone by since my love left
bereft am I since there's been no word
no news of his vessel, now long overdue
a great storm cast its eye on his ship's course
If prayers were diamonds I'd have great wealth
currency in which I could never take pleasure
In my worst nightmare he lies tangled in kelp
without help to free him he surely will drown
a torturous fate that nearly drives me insane
Here, on the bridge, amid my sighs and cries
I beg that somehow he finds his way home
escaping the wrath of an unmerciful sea
Day after day, when dawn has barely broken
I stand on the bridge, sealed bottle in my hand
inside is a note in which my sad heart entreats,
"Poseidon, please send my love back to me
before loneliness becomes the cause of my death."
To the current my plea tossed. Hope, not yet lost
June 21, 2017
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2017
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