The Tide
The tide comes in a splashin
Where the rocks meet with the bay
The winds they are a howlin
Neath the piers that seem to sway
The birds they fly in daily
and they're singing oh so gaily
Twisted driftwood floats on by
when the tide comes in so brazenly high
Scores of fish washed up together
by waves, that don't care bout the weather
Jelly fish glistening across the shore
but step on one they're all goo and gore
Copyright © Cheri Golden | Year Posted 2008
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