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