Pulled Both Ways
Long for solitude.
And still, whose access
Lengthy coastline's of sheoke
That voice, will, back through
Yearningly sombrous, the more
Be listened in for.
Long for solitude;
Cliff top's wave-crasher.
Still, which entrancing peace
No castaways rue
Broke, when on a tide, inland
Seen, with you, to stand.
Copyright © James Watkin | Year Posted 2023
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