A few years ago and worlds away from where I am presently, this was my reality on making landfall on a deserted Caribbean coast. Fortunately my memory survives. My soul's bequest to me.
My Soul’s Bequest
The air is cold for a fine spring day
My thoughts drift towards a tropic sky
To years long past where dolphins play
Rays fly silent while frigates cry
To a lonely beach white as snow
No footprints mar this soft Cezanne
Starfish drift with conch below
Water azure to crystalline
Two cables off she rides at ease
Sails furled anchored dressed for rest
Hull crisp against horizon’s crease
My home my life my soul’s bequest
Poetry by josephus
Read 285 times
Written on 2021-05-12 at 16:07
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Lawrence Beck |
F.i.in.e Moods |