He'd come here with her once,
They'd walked along the beach,
Hand in hand, whispering
Words, laughing into that
Chill wind of the season,
Gazing into the eyes,
Dark pools mirroring back
Each to each, now all gone,
She out of reach in some
Place of the dead, and he
Standing cold by the shore
Looking out at the sea,
The wind in his thinning
Hair and face, wanting her
By his side, her hand in
His, whispering soft words,
But there is none, only
The noisy gulls and those
Shoreline birds and her vague
Ghostly image by his
Side, both watching white sky
And the harsh rushing tide.
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Comments: 17
I have stood by the edge of that sea
Gather Broadcasting: Have it your way
I just wanted to stop by since I am finally going through what is now listed as under 5,100 pieces of gather new mail that is sitting in my inbox on here.
With that mentioned I just came across either a mailing from you yourself, or someone else brought this piece to my attention. You or they felt that your creation should be shared with the gather community, which I am very glad that it was passed on to me to view. So I wanted to say Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to publish it here on gather for us to all view. :o)
As well before I leave you I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year... in 2009 :o)