Doggerel No 5, a Day At the Beach
Whatever may come of whatever may,
The breeze comes blowing in it own way,
Swirling round the sandy cove,
Gulls swirling twirling above shallow shoals.
My breezy breath is pulled from me
To feed the wind, to lift the leaves,
To pass once more my shell like ears,
Assault the eyes, bring forth my tears.
Bright sun, brash birds, the forever roar
Of weathering wind on surf worn shore,
Words here are swirled away
So there’s naught left at end of day
But visions that my eyes have seen,
A low slung flower kissed by a bee,
Orb of gold held in constant blue,
Sandy shore washed, forever renewed.
When I trudge with weary legs
Across the dunes and toward my bed
With every step I take away
I gain a word that I can say
To paint a picture with vowels and verbs
To tell a tale in the local pub
Of when I stood in sandy surf
And lost my self then found my worth.
Copyright © Kenneth Baker | Year Posted 2022
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