Waves
The waves’
little licks,
muss piles of sand;
chalk blue horizons,
bathe crystal-glass land.
Wet basting breezes,
Salted pink baby knees,
oiled baby bottoms
cool in the seas.
Oceans reflect,
the blue of turquoise;
beneath candy striped umbrella’s
toddle tikes playing with toys.
I can tell you of the waves;
the push and pull,
the ceaseless tide,
the tiny tumbled treasures
of pebbles by my side.
I can tell you of the waves;
the sinking surface of sea and sand,
joining all the clay of man;
as he sinks into the Mother
and melts into land.
But the paper pages end
and why should you sit here?
The waves are calling to you
with birds, boats and dreams.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
