Posted in Poetry

shingle shore

North Wind, blow your aspen leave once more

And tell me if it reaches the shingle shore

Where life is replete with its pristine nature:

Where the sea kale copes with the sea winds

Rising to a ridge of a crest, valorous and bounteous

True blue to the whimsical temper of sea love;

Where the yellow horned poppy blooms in the sea mists

Standing on a cliff, facing seaward, toward the horizons

Skybound, spellbound, fluttering the golden petals ever –

And if you see the brown hare hopping around the shore,

Tell me the castle east of the sun west of the moon is there.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

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