Wednesday, 26 May 2010

Fields of Blue

Distant shore, your music sings,
Though not to me; I hear the waves.
The ebb and flow of season tide,
The tranquil breeze and raging tempest howl.

Shimmer glint of sharp sweet waves, pushed
onward t’ward horizons tender,
New sphere of blue.
Unseen, unheard.

The ships still few as newer stars stutter past
The deep sea’s gentle tug ahead
What blue pastures lie beyond…
Did you ever see a rose the colour of the ocean?