The sea has gone to sleep:
Become a mirror of the sky.
Lapping onto the land
With subtle churnings.
It’s a brightly sunny day,
Uplifting the spirits.
Hardly a hint of breeze
As the tide creeps out.
I slumber in the languidness of Willy’s beer.
All angst buried as I settle down to sleep.
That mighty, massive ocean is so still now.
Its monsters have been well and truly put to bed.
Blue sky
With lightly painted clouds upon the horizon.
My porch is warm today
In the golden sun.
Paul Butters
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
The sea has gone to sleep:
Become a mirror of the sky.
Lapping onto the land
With subtle churnings.
It’s a brightly sunny day,
Uplifting the spirits.
Hardly a hint of breeze
As the tide creeps out.
I slumber in the languidness of Willy’s beer.
All angst buried as I settle down to sleep.
That mighty, massive ocean is so still now.
Its monsters have been well and truly put to bed.
Blue sky
With lightly painted clouds upon the horizon.
My porch is warm today
In the golden sun.
Paul Butters
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