I stood before a tempest sea once more,
she should be older then but seemed the same,
her waves rolled near my feet as times before
and loud she called me by my proper name.
She smiled at me when rays of sunlight shone,
her comfort whispers told me I should stay
in life to do what needed to be done,
she often told me I should go my way.
I could not join her, swim away and go
and leave all matters that I want to part
with every movement of the undertow
a way from shore into a wanted start.
Sea would not have my company that day,
withdrew in low tide and in silent grey.
entry for dversepoets 14 sept. 2012
This light is such that I don’t want to go,
and leave these trees whose whispers make me hear
the ancient stories that they seem to know
as over land a mist is spread from sea.
This mist is such that I don’t want to leave,
I wait to hear the soft drops fall on soil,
like tears they do, in unseen fading grief
that can’t be spoken of in other ways.
But comes the night, I need to find my road,
go back to where I never knew this rest,
to shelter there, what must be my abode
until the day emerges from its sleep.
I shall return and dwell to be at ease
where light and mist make home for thought and peace.
The more we speak of days we were not here,
the less we seem to catch the time we spent,
away for good it is, the atmosphere,
the special light on holidays we went.
This little cottage where we made our child,
now as we stand here both in bygone’s shade,
the flowers, that we seeded, growing wild
and on the wall the drawing you once made.
The picture seems about another place.
We could restore this house and bring it back,
I want to see that smile there on your face.
Come on, let’s be in love, oh what the heck!
The time has changed a lot for us I know,
but if we try, we need not it let go.
I hope this is a Shakespearean sonnet