A Poetry Of Paintings

I’m standing here beside myself; I’ve forgotten who I am

The who I used to be beneath a tree with summer in his hair

Clouds, tumbling waves of moments long, long ago

A lifetime of yesterday’s lay scattered, curling sepia memories

Misting blackberry edge of the far away where shingle sharp the shore

Where echoes of laughter linger faint and fleeting, lost between the tides.

The sea whispers secrets to the sky, its voice a hymn of wandering souls.

I reach for the horizon, where sun and storms embrace

Like dreams half-remembered

Time crumbles beneath my feet

 Scattering fragments of who I once was

Into the restless depths where the past and present merge

Painting eternity in hues of blue and gold

A poetry of paintings

 Colours running all ways to the music of the sea

My smile is stolen; taken far out to sea by salt edge of the cutting wind

I’m standing here beside myself upon glistening golden stones

I have forgotten who I am

I hear waves whisper echoes of yesterday secrets of who I used to be

Small pieces of myself, words, and images carry on the wind

In the vain hope they will find their way back to shore

A poetry of paintings

 Colours running all ways to the music of the sea