Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2023
I never saw the scarp begin,
Nor the haunted planes of gold;
Forlorn, I watched the waves move in—
How their snow-laden peaks enfold!
And without the call of tri-formed reefs—
Echoing: mosaic-to-mosaic shore—
I would not have seen the heart therein,
Nor the light henceforth bestowed.
Written by
Isaace
488
   Rob Rutledge
Please log in to view and add comments on poems