Just beyond the lapping water I lay
upon the sand
a book in hand
-of words much like my own.
Though style, thoughts, and construction unique
the form (poetry) is all so familiar and warm
like home.
How much ive grown
-from the days I’d only consume literature of tales I could dream of.
Now my taste has grown much more keen,
an eye for insight so far unseen.
Answers of which I doubt Ill find,
though nonetheless I value
like friends of mine.
And in this moment near days end
the wind is blowing
my hair on end
A shift I notice:
The way my skin gleams in the low hung sun
The way my shadow perfectly eclipses the soft sand
The way I feel so very content in the moment.
A shift I notice:
How the day has gone well
How I feel so so swell
How I smile for no reason at all.
And just for now I savor,
I see,
The world (and me) are rolling, crashing, upon the shore,
Symbiotically.
things are looking up
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
Just beyond the lapping water I lay
upon the sand
a book in hand
-of words much like my own.
Though style, thoughts, and construction unique
the form (poetry) is all so familiar and warm
like home.
How much ive grown
-from the days I’d only consume literature of tales I could dream of.
Now my taste has grown much more keen,
an eye for insight so far unseen.
Answers of which I doubt Ill find,
though nonetheless I value
like friends of mine.
And in this moment near days end
the wind is blowing
my hair on end
A shift I notice:
The way my skin gleams in the low hung sun
The way my shadow perfectly eclipses the soft sand
The way I feel so very content in the moment.
A shift I notice:
How the day has gone well
How I feel so so swell
How I smile for no reason at all.
And just for now I savor,
I see,
The world (and me) are rolling, crashing, upon the shore,
Symbiotically.
things are looking up
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