Sentinel Old Refuge
A red dirty refuge of old
Such a small Eiffel tower
That draws a force of cold
At a pinnacle not coward.
The drowning sea envelops
From a bottom deep
But collapses at it's feet
Speaks turn away old fella
See the water high and roaring
But notice it's my back I give
Among the dirt washed to the shore
I'll keep you safe so that you'll live
April 5 2016
Copyright © Christy Teas | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment