I was walking one morning
Along the water’s edge
When I happened to spy
What first I mistook
As a meaningless bit
Of flotsam
Partially buried
In the warm sand.
Upon closer inspection
I was intrigued to discover
An ancient bottle
Corked and sealed
With wax
And containing
A yellowed scroll
Of paper.
My heart racing
I turned the bottle
This way and that,
Trying in vain to see
What message
The paper contained.
I was curious to know
The history,
The story,
Behind its presence
Upon this beach,
Yet I was strangely reluctant
To break the seal,
Fearful of finding
Nothing of import
Within.
So I retraced my steps
Along the sand,
Carrying my prize,
This gift of the sea,
And all the possibilities
It may contain,
Back to my home
Where I could
Marvel over it
Further.
I don't know if this truly happened to you or if it is an imaginary happening that we all would like to see when walking the beach.
Whether it be a treasure map or the lament of someone stranded in need of rescue, the "message in a bottle" always is very romantic way of thinking and communicating that goes back into several centuries ago.
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
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Whether it be a treasure map or the lament of someone stranded in need of rescue, the "message in a bottle" always is very romantic way of thinking and communicating that goes back into several centuries ago.
Ron
Regis. 🌺🍁