I can feel the tide has turned, at last.
The sound of breakers changed, relaxed.
Impressions in the sand, half-dried, now fill.
Seabirds watching crabs, still proud, must rise.
Beachcombers head for home;
the wide bay becomes blue;
stern wavelets kiss the wall;
you can hear the seagulls call;
and my shifting spirit is renewed,
at last.
———————
Posted on dVerse, April 2013
Optimism’s blue, like a Spring sky,
and pessimism heavy grey, like a draught horse’s breath in winter
after ploughing’s over.
I look out to summer skies;
grey clouds on blue –
and long for change.
Reflective moods,
then snorting like a draught horse,
and turning back to work.
Raindrops on my windscreen, shivering, like memories of you
before your birthday last year. They sparkle in the sunlight like your eyes
and dry now, leaving ghosts.
My hand moves towards the screenwash, and stops. I will let my vision cloud,
and fail. Now I recall again, the sunlight in your eyes,
and raindrops form in mine.
poetry diary 