Seven


Seven times seven the sea
rolled its corroding force
over rocks barren to the bleak eye
that dark water stare sways to silence
in long winter cold assaults.

Seven times seven the gull
speared the windy infant
lost in water breaking debris
where bare feet meet grey froth
of an ancient seaweed tale.

Seven times seven the mist
wrapped frost and fire
'round the runny river call
of salmons and whales
no longer weighed by chance.

Seven times seven the boat
raced down the watery curve
just to crest climb with hot blood
pounding reason into night
and a face sprayed still in time.




Poetry by Bob
Read 549 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 00:12

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Amanda K
voice of nature speaking of its fairness. very breezy and soft. well-done
2006-11-07


Rik The PoetBay support member heart!
Great imagery and as allways never a syllable wasted. Maybe i am looking to deep for an underlying meaning, maybe it will come to me the more i read it, maybe it will not, maybe i am inadequate to percieve it but what the heck the play with words is masterly.
2006-11-03


Saga
This is great seven times over!!!!
2006-11-02