Swiftly skimming cerulean jewels,
Bound in effervescent tears,
I wish I could dance in these pools
For the rest of my years.
With majestic melancholy,
Fish drift in tranquility,
Visions of the future volley
Only hints of possibility.
Sea breeze sirens' tales
Grabbing sailors on a whim,
Redirecting their sails
Like nature's phantom limb.
Women wilt at the sea's call,
Afflicted by aquatic woe,
An internal sea squall,
Directed by the ebb and flow.
Pieces of me drift in the ocean
The place from where I came
65 percent of me: endless devotion,
35 percent: quintessential flame.
Coffee Stains & Crumpled Paper -- A Writers Guild
A haven for writers of all kinds.
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