The shore, compelling from a distance, looks lush and green and warm.
From closer up not so inviting,
Remnant driftwood from a storm
Covers beaches, sea grass, shells,
And secrets kept she never tells,
Of all the travelers that have tried
To harbor there, and all that died,
And still more come and try each day,
Though some give up and sail away,
Some, persistent, wreck their ships
Windblown into coral, rips
Gashes in their hulls and heart -
Remains lie broken far apart.
The sunswept skies and gentle breezes push and pull the wispy clouds.
Yet darkness hovers
Ever closer; rapidly approaching shrouds
Soon will join with lightning, thunder
Mortal winds will blow asunder
Bow from stern and sail from mast,
Weary windblown sailors last
As long as able, choose to fight.
Can they endure till morning light?
When early hues of pink and teal
Dark night’s destruction then reveal.
Carnage strewn about the beach
Like dreams of many; out of reach.
PwL 3/26/15