Grit

Sitting in

A seaside inn

Words drifting by

 

Rising suns

And setting sails

White clouds chasing sky

 

Blossoms bloom

Then fall away

Sudden tempests rise

 

I know now

Why Hemingway stayed

But to end his life why?

 

The bottle holds

No friend true

Except to tell its lies

 

Flashing eyes

And haughty dress

Lay ruin to men's lives

 

Nightingale

Sings sweet words

The truth we will ignore

 

To touch pale skin

In paradise

Give me just one more

 

Under water

Vision blurs

As though I'm down below

 

Davy Jones

Shrill his laugh

For those who do not know

 

The sea calls out

To the trodden hearts

The hearts that cannot stand

 

Life's contempt

Bashed about

While standing on the land

 

Hidden shores

Hold all we seek

Lying we believe

 

It's the journey from

Not the Journey to

We are all deceived

 

Landing on

The tranquil shore

We are bidden come within

 

Till the land

Delivers fatal blows

To the sea we swim

 

Sobered up

The sea turns calm

Where there is no land in sight

 

God and I

We lift our cups

Just water thanks tonight

 

You'll lay no waste

To this humble heart

I'm where I can be free

 

Just one old man

The fleeting fish

My memories and me

 

Reviews

[Deandra Dawn]

Very nicely done. I love it.

[just is]

This is so wonderful, I throughly enjoyed the read

[Liderien]

jealous, I am, lucky you are. (a little verbage from Yoda) hehe. I made muffins with pumpkin and chocolate chips...not the same things is it. hehe

[Rusty]

Thanks. Sitting in the alcove of my little hovel here fishing for words napping and eating fresh caught grilled grouper. Yes that is grouper not groper.

[Liderien]

beautiful!!!!!!!

[Rusty]

Thanks for reading!

[The White Wolf]

Ahhhh, the sea.....love it! Nice work, friend.