Terry Vannecksurplice Poet Free verse

The Line of Beauty

Always there is a line-
the line of water along the beach,
going and coming
Dunkirk and Dover.
Always the line
with the foam edging the cloud break.


Always there is a line-                                                                           
a lifetime of memories
they come and they go, gently returning
to cause a surprise
on the edges of life
and future happenings.


There is always a line
along the river, my Thames,
the ebb and the flow, the rise of the tides.
And suddenly, the geese lift off
with raucous calls
and the heron gently dives.


There is always a line,- 
the shadow of the birds on the surface
the commas stretching on the water
the whisper of life
down in the depths
under the muddy brown.


Always there is a line
reflecting the summer clouds
on the pond and the puddle.
Mackeral fleeting with the swallow
lemon curdle of the rising sun
and the red-gold of the setting.

There is always a line along the life of memory.

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