In the wake of my piece about the little cliff top house overlooking the Irish Sea, I wrote the following poem for a small poetry group of which I am a member. It evokes for me a time when I would stare far out to sea, gathering my thoughts and trying to make some sense of 'it all'.
My poem seemed to strike a chord with a number of readers in the poetry group and so I am including it here on my blog too.....
I sit and face the mournful sea
it doesn't seek to comfort me.
The rolling waves are filled with sadness,
sure to drive a man to madness.
Reluctantly I turn around
and head on back to higher ground
to where I find my lowly bed,
a place to rest my weary head.
A fitful sleep with broken dreams
until the early sunlight streams
in through my thoughts to waken me
- and once again I hear the sea.
And now it sings a different song,
it urges me to move along;
caressing me it seems to say
it's time to start another day.
(c) Jason Endfield 2016
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