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High above me...wild birds call..headed home


Safe from all raging storms... I lay at anchor
here in the lap of the towering beautiful grey green lady
She sits silent.. weeping her frozen tears.. they run
unheeded down the ruin of her face to form a necklace
of crystallized pearls between her ancient sagging breasts



She weeps for the forever lost ...those sailors who have slid
down to the watery depths there with in her gaze...there...
where she keeps a vigil near the spot they lie below..
food for the fish.. old white bones turning into sand


Nearby are the narrows the path to home and safety. Home
to the arms of those foolish women who loved them and now
weep copious tears for them as they tend the goats and and
glean a little sustenance atop the rocky craig at the waters edge



While over all speaks the clarion call of the old harbor horn. While
the golden ray of the lighthouse on the point cuts big slices in the
mist that never seems to disapate.. in this the land of the midnight
Sun where mother nature reigns supreme and time is frozen

By jollynoblefrog

© 2017 jollynoblefrog (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with Bonnie (tinyteddy) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Word Painting with Bonnie (tinyteddy) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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