Isle's Reverie
Island of sea shells,
if we forget the tune
of this hammock-net,
our veins remembers.
Whistling a tender music
through the bushes,
it echoes in fresh eyes
which truly appreciate
the rhythm of blue crest,
that whispers to us
of depths and sunlit lands,
and folklore of beginnings that
lingers somewhere in
generation's reverie.
Clutch on to isle's dream,
the marriage of wind and wave,
of gull and old boats sailing
of wishes gushing---
the pulse of the sea
repeats our tribal history.
Island Contest/ Anthony Slausen
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