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Wednesday
May 30, 2012
9:42pm EDT


  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1724260  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
" Sea Of Storms"
Soul searching the waves of life lashing out at me.
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                                                                        Sea Of Storms



                                                            The towering wave loomed above,

                                                          as its foamy fingers lashed outwards

                                                        crashing into the rocks, down by the bay.

                                                    The memory of yesterday, staring out to sea

                                                          lighting bolt a flashing light so bright,

                                                          bursting into thunder behind the pier.



                                                              Rolling forth in groaning circles,

                                                          the halo of a ring around the moon;

                                                        a night beyond belief my soul in sorrow.

                                                    Within the gloom though times may change

                                                      my dreaming that remains on the horizon;

                                                        hillsides lit with a second noon to rest.



                                                        Above the foam so slowly disappearing;

                                                          winds that blow from other memories,

                                                          piercing a dying wave a hollow sound.

                                                      Broken seashells washed upon the shore;

                                                      dark the earth below where nothing grows

                                                      and no one knows where the tides will go.



                                                            Fig trees on a whitewashed wall;

                                                          the man of faith walking on the sea,

                                                            gazing within my mind of sorrows,

                                                            Mom old and grey in a wheelchair;

                                                            Dad died fighting bravely for liberty

                                                            my soul seeking has set me free.



                                                            Spirits of power a beautiful sight,

                                                              racing waves before the wind,

                                                              running home to my dear mom.

                                                                  Begging her forgiveness

                                                                      my sea of storms,

                                                                        in fear of failure. 





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