The Beach

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The Beach

I lie surpassed by shining endless ocean
Whose fickle emotion unfetters at the shore.
I lie in lull, imperiled by the beauty,
Ravaged by the silence- and yearning essence more.
The happenstance of sparkles on the water...
Electric chain of fire, a proper patterned lore.
The languid lapping goes dancing on the desert,
Frothy from the journey, somewhere to reaffirm.
A symphony of sounds from her undoing
Play rhythm to her brother... light bands of kindred air.
And in between, the rain of gifted rapture
Falls misty on remembrance... a time when I was here.

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

KeithParsons’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
The Lady Bug 0
Self-Sealing (A Tribute To My Ex) 0
Gray Haired Man 0
Wind Walking 0
Point of View 0
Arabian Sand 0
Lizzie 0
A Little Town Beside The Sea 0
Breaking Free 0
Tulip Dust 0
A Beautiful Love 0
The Beach 0