I am a bad commenter, so if you don't read this, that is ok.
are like ocean winds
cold winter days
with dying polar bears
slowly bouncing the floe,
continuously staring
at fading dominion,
proud and destined
for the pounding of storms.
Winter fallout seizes
old memories
where old men walk
from cove to endless night
with no cover.
The grand con shell
whispers to the forlorn.
Drapes of oily illusion
beckon in dark waves
where fear goes deep.
The salmon glides gently
from its Sargasso
to a river running wild,
to rapids harnessed by man.
Poetry by Bob
Read 1676 times
Written on 2006-12-19 at 04:59
Tags Winter Ocean Salmon
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Our wet origin
Terrestrial shortcomingsare like ocean winds
cold winter days
with dying polar bears
slowly bouncing the floe,
continuously staring
at fading dominion,
proud and destined
for the pounding of storms.
Winter fallout seizes
old memories
where old men walk
from cove to endless night
with no cover.
The grand con shell
whispers to the forlorn.
Drapes of oily illusion
beckon in dark waves
where fear goes deep.
The salmon glides gently
from its Sargasso
to a river running wild,
to rapids harnessed by man.
Poetry by Bob
Read 1676 times
Written on 2006-12-19 at 04:59
Tags Winter Ocean Salmon
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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