Matthew Brackley Poet Ballad

To the Shore

Pebbles tumble, 
to the shore, 
my thoughts tumble, 
my heart, 
sore 

My thoughts, 
my very core, 
are like driftwood, 
beaching gently on the shore 
Thes new things, 
what's it all for? 

Rush of noisy white surf, 
to the shore 
Thoughts churn, 
how things turn! 

Things I could 
Things I should, 
driftwood, 
to the shore 

White water on high tide, 
my thoughts,feelings, 
this driftwood i ride 

Drifting to the shore, 
it has purpose, 
for the things you see 
are not a curse 
for what can be. 
Live the day 
before it is taken away 

This pebbly beach, 
the values it can teach. 
The driftwood 
to the shore, 
brings it to the fore 

This blue sky burns me deep, 
inwards I weep, 
for I stumble 
to find, 
the words of a kind, 
to make me humble 

For the sea 
in it's tidal war, 
claims my heart sore. 
This driftwood 
and the thoughts held at bay 
washed away, 
as it should 

For I start a new day 
with new driftwood....... 
to the shore

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