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We walked the beaches holding hands, Our naked feet massaged upon its Grainy, cornmeal, golden sand And water blue as Texas Bonnets. The sun was gently overcast, Its golden light dispelled by haze. And though it's beauty would not last, Our hearts were with its fleeting rays. I dared to touch you, eye to eye, And in your bright gray Iris found That same dispelled and gentle sky Forever to my spirit bound. Our footsteps furrowed in the sea, As if the ocean bid them come And dance its waters rhythmically. They stayed, instead, like raisined plums. And while we walked in harmony We sang a hymn to God, our King, Encouraged by the endless sea And love so vast, untamed, to sing. The ocean seemed to sing along And underscored our three-four time With lapping like a metronome— The trio trippingly sublime. Our anthem, carried on the breeze, Sauntered through your curly hair. A lonesome trembling dread then seized Your forehead—cute while whipping there. At last, as though a common day, The sun went down, gave way to moon. Our song grew still. A silent lay Voiced then our love. But that was June. If love's first minute after Noon Is night, our walking, singing songs Should have made us fear, since soon The love we shared would all be wrong. But true minds married will confess That Love's no fool of Times. So, Sweet, Our love continues to regress While holding hands with wrinkled feet.
0
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 5:59 AM UTC
Song on the Beach.
We walked the beaches holding hands, Our naked feet massaged upon its Grainy, cornmeal, golden sand And water blue as Texas Bonnets. The sun was gently overcast, Its golden light dispelled by haze. And though it's beauty would not last, Our hearts were with its fleeting rays. I dared to touch you, eye to eye, And in your bright gray Iris found That same dispelled and gentle sky Forever to my spirit bound. Our footsteps furrowed in the sea, As if the ocean bid them come And dance its waters rhythmically. They stayed, instead, like raisined plums. And while we walked in harmony We sang a hymn to God, our King, Encouraged by the endless sea And love so vast, untamed, to sing. The ocean seemed to sing along And underscored our three-four time With lapping like a metronome— The trio trippingly sublime. Our anthem, carried on the breeze, Sauntered through your curly hair. A lonesome trembling dread then seized Your forehead—cute while whipping there. At last, as though a common day, The sun went down, gave way to moon. Our song grew still. A silent lay Voiced then our love. But that was June. If love's first minute after Noon Is night, our walking, singing songs Should have made us fear, since soon The love we shared would all be wrong. But true minds married will confess That Love's no fool of Times. So, Sweet, Our love continues to regress While holding hands with wrinkled feet.
Written around 2000. One of my first.
skeptic-tank
Written by
American
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 5:59 AM UTC
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