They are a couple I know.
She's always running forth
He's always receding, slow.
She gathers seashells
pushing them upon the sand.
He pulls them all back in
with his long, stretching hand.
Tirelessly, she gathers and
deposits them on shore.
He greedily reaches far and
takes them to oceans floor.
She hurries once more,
this time leaving lacy foam.
He does not reach them,
defeated, he wanes for home.
Char Chandler
March, 2010
7 comments:
Lovely poem! There is no place I like more than the beach. Thanks for stopping by to visit me today. This is my third yorkie. We have owned yorkies for the past 22 years. Our first one was in our wedding. All of them have had different personalities, but all have been very sweet and loving. I am so sorry that you lost yours. You were fortunate to have her for 16 years. You must get another. They just fill the house with love. Now that I know where you are, I will visit you again soon! Happy St Patrick's Day!
Love,
Susan and Bentley
xxoo
Char, I love it when you put it out there. It's a beautiful relationship, even if they don't get very far. They keep about their roles. (Although, I do get exasperated with him. It is work to collect like that!)
xo
erin
Where water meets land is a magical place..
Char-yeah, those two might seem sillyu, but where would poets be without them? not to mention daydreamers and scallywags such as myself. ~rick
Oh clever! I loved that, Char :)
This makes me wish I wasn't in Denver trapped in with all the snow!
thank you for putting my love life into a poem. Very astute
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