The Water's Edge

I hear her voice along the water's edge

Closer yet the savour of the shore

Ebbing tide a running

Shifting stars high onto the beach

Quiet dark pools lit by pearl moons upon round golden stones

Discarded driftwood

A dog’s paw prints scatter shingle shells

The wind is stronger now

It will be a good day for the sailing.

Recent Posts

Rosalind Tomorrow, tomorrow, always tomorrow Tomorrow is waiting long, gilding our window pane Losing the night upon the fringe of...

Penny, tuppence, shilling shining down the stairs and out Frank James and all that ail there and then across the town Thomas the library...

The Turquoise Tie It was sweet back then with Radio Luxembourg under the blanket When our songs were all at sea stolen by Pirate Radio...