When day is spent and night air comes

I know summer’s hold is lost

and autumn’s magic turns

green leaves gold, signalling

a season of change is coming,

so I better start to prepare

cause winter’s grip can be cold.


I take my thoughts to heart, walking

mussing on life’s twists and turns.

I sense my concerns will

make an emotional impact,

so I evaluate; careful not to react

asking for peace to let the past depart

and the ‘now’ to give me it’s best


I lay stretched out on the beach

as full moon and stars brightly shine

like an out stretched hand to reach.

I turn my gaze to address your moon

face and shout aloud my boon

flinging my words out, as if to mars

while relief trembles in my speech


The air is cold, I slowly walk the beach;

shouting my thoughts for ocean waves

to catch them in their magic roar

this cry of troubled heart.

Prayers afloat upon Pacific’s spray

I drop them, with a lament

“ride the surf to the end” my yachts



I’m a fellow being who trust ‘time’

will mend a broken heart.

Hope knows the wintry grip can be cold

but spring will soon spin its magic trick.

I turn, to search the beach, to know I am


making my speech of emotions,

to the roar of ocean blend

and notice your moon face wink back

on this lonely New Zealand beach

by Stephen douglas

©stephen c douglas, 11/04/09 & 04/06/20