Speak now in full froth
As we crest and come ashore
Before laying to rest where
We shall sleep forevermore
So the waves whispered to me
This morning while I sipped
My morning coffee
Nature's eloquence
Of late is wasted on me
Garbled on awakening
With all her best words
Evading my reach
One is what one makes
Such is every poet's fate
No matter how the sheaves
Happen to accumulate
Year after year
Words tumble
Along the mind's shoreline
Leaving at best little
More consequent than
Sea-wrack strewn raggedly
Across the high strand
No comments:
Post a Comment