Fifth rushes forward, reaching quite high then drawing back with a pitiful sigh
Sixth sets the shingle in tumbling affray Spattering shore with its salty sea-spray
Seventh heads in with a thunderous roar Seaweed dragged up from immense ocean floor. Intensified surf-line determined to reach Cooling the sand on serene golden beach
Clutching the land, evermore, dragging it seaward without a care. Soon there will be no beach at all, as the sea rises to make its call. In the poker game of life.
Eighth...comes as quickly as a gust of some
restless wind...from nowhere...then disappears
something within you changes...and awakens
the spiritual core...of human being...
Thank you, Ruan for sharing your great poem.
Oh, I absolutely love this Ruan, absolutely! What a beautiful concept and the writing is superb with image-making lines and well done rhyme. This poem deserved a gold star!
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Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Diana...
Beautiful spattering visions of the ocean.
A day to remember reaching.
Lady Mary Ann
Ron
budd
Sandie
restless wind...from nowhere...then disappears
something within you changes...and awakens
the spiritual core...of human being...
Thank you, Ruan for sharing your great poem.