Tides
Tides
Pockets of glisten
languidly lap
but don't listen
as they lumber
and swell away.
Spanking rocks
so ungentle
playing games
far from sentimental
leading our love astray.
Rolling around
with no order
caring not you adore her
as she flows back
towards a brand new day.
By Jeanne MacGregor Lahn
This poem was written by Jeanne Lahn on Oct 08, 2006.
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