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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1947954
The Ocean sings to a troubled Sailor.
Twice today I stood upon
A steel deck, a hill of grey
While not so grand a sight could I
Find elsewhere on this swelt’ring day.

The roar of wind upon my face
Like accusations in my ear.
The sun above my head it glares
Agreement with the wind I hear.

My eyes are lowered, breath abates
The colors ripple, melt and sway
Blues and greens and whites swim by
And gently sing the wind away.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1947954-The-Ocean