Who will in the sea from capsized boat flow her-maids, he-maids, sea-maids be where riptides swirl and spin a tale of immortality? No gravity to keep in space confined?
A bloody moon shines a glowing light on night bird eyes, glistening reflective drops of salt in season; seasons hide from sorrow when a freighter passes by. Sometimes a struggle strips away a memory when focused on a broad immersing tide.
Choking waves break over bow and clean away so many fears; a lighthouse becomes darkness, an intrusive lie. For from the deep truth splashes on the windward side.
About the Creator
Pamela Williams
“Suppose I had wings like the dawning day and flew across the ocean. Even then your powerful arm would guide and protect me.”
— Psalm 139:9–10, Contemporary English Version (CEV)
Keep reading
More stories from Pamela Williams and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (1)
This is just gorgeous. This style of poetry is one of my favorites; impressionistic and way more visual than literary, though still very literary, of course. Hard to describe, but it’s so fun to play with and to read. This one is beautiful, and the slant rhymes between stanzas is *mwah* just perfection.