of years
where none are written
but the ways
I came to you
cross shores
and crimson moorings
to your side
of age
what use in counting
lest I wake
to find you here
no less
for seasons scattered
as verse upon
the tide
. . .
27 Wednesday Sep 2017
Posted Poetry
inof years
where none are written
but the ways
I came to you
cross shores
and crimson moorings
to your side
of age
what use in counting
lest I wake
to find you here
no less
for seasons scattered
as verse upon
the tide
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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Very soothing is the embrace of your words they massage one’s heart and spirit…inspiring every single moment! Always a delight Bobbie!
Thank you, Wendell. As I am sure you know, your every word humbles me.
You always inspire!!!
Echoes of time, as waves upon its shores …
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A breath shared from seasons far away, yet close as this last exhale … 🌲
Your words flow like the tides Bobbie and all I feel is ❤
……ever still Jane ❤