The Prisoner

#3 from a few hours at the beach

Thrust! Thrust back off my feet!

Rolled and tossed onto land again

By that unforgiving surf.

A tumultuous murk of sand and froth

Bashing, smashing with its merciless caps

Of an indiscriminate tide.

But oh! Yonder deep blue sea!

A constant dream, that open drink

To taste of Freedom.

That cerulean hue meets the sky

A beautiful, no, enchanting distant horizon

Glimpsed o'er these walls.

These crashing walls, Captor! I cry.

Once more, we stand to face.

Thrust! That unforgiving surf.

Reviews

[Mockingbird]

sounds like the indiscriminate tide stands in the way of the distant horizon. i guess we have to escape the waves in order to reach the blue sea. like they say it gets worse before it gets better. lovely and accurate imagery.

[Dr. Wood ?]

once again you did it...great stuff