Slow Tides

Slow Tides

Crashing as the waves weigh in,
my thoughts, they ebb and flow
With memories both gone and been,
lost to the undertow

Cold hard ground I opted for,
for fear of a chance;
a place I'd never wanted more,
a space graced for a dance

A dance rehearsed alone so well,
a dream to even be
To be beneath a cotton bell,
to be inside... to see

Yet still the mind, it plays such tricks
... makes you doubt your worth
Longstood fears, things that stick,
choosing cold, hard earth

Enveloped in an Angel's shawl,
fell... risen on cold nights
Building slowly to a crawl,
bleeding in low light

Waving, drowning in such thoughts,
such memories wash back,
with all the things that went unbought,
caught up in the black

With notions left a step behind,
as moons pull all the more
Whilst currents ebb and flow, remind,
in oceans deep, unsure

Waiting for our bottle back,
our message to the sea,
to be returned, so where we lack,
can maybe hope to be

Answered for the cry it is,
encoded rough on maps
Where 'X' marks spots, so hit or miss,
disquised as useless scraps

Scraps forlorn and choppy, rough,
washed back with the surf
A wartorn carbon copy, scuffed,
eked out on cold hard earth

with vagaries, we hope we've lost,
In water... clear blue
Careless souls, left counting costs,
decoded far from true

Stretches marked across our shores,
across their width and breadth
When cold hard earth is marked in scores,
its hard to gauge the depth

with past lives spent neath cotton bells,
beneath an Angel's shawl,
far away from sand and shells,
and still, the Siren calls

In memories, such thoughts have clout
... too much... sometimes... alone
with waves still crashing in and out,
unbidden... far from home