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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1606067
poetry entry for 'fields of poetry'
WHEN THE WATER WAS STILL

You stop in the horde,
To wonder of the castaways,
The strangers nobody saw,
Murmurs along these shores
Whisper secrets the sea took long ago.
Of the lost traversing alone in the deep,
Waiting for the herald of the curled waves,
To take them back to shore.

Northern lights on the dreaming sea,
Sweetly, sweetly sang the breeze,
Breathed in by the eager soul, the aimless wander.
The little boat puffed her sail,
The sea holds mystery below the watery plain,
Cruel darkness, a depth so silent it’s deafening.
The bottom of the sea is unkind.
Like a torn cloud before the hurricane,
The boat all but sunk beneath a wave.
The spangled storm swallowed her alive,
Ruffles of wave, the salty tumult,
Chased down fate with the arrival of dire tides,
And tossed the boat to the shade beneath the surface.

On shore, you left the beach.
And behind, the sea was still going on…
When the water is still,
The strangers are calm.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1606067-When-the-Water-was-Still-entry