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by Logan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2124104
As fun as it can be, some people don't like swimming
Introverted Tides

I try to gauge the water,
I try to judge the depth
Paddling in narrows
Strokes often lacking breadth
Not the strongest swimmer,
More watching from the shore
Yet in water, there's a glimmer
of what could lay in store
Casually the waves lap
Inviting to and fro
Cautiously ripped forward
Tides fathomed as I go
'cause though it all seems clear
... inviting all the same
In the white wash there's a fear
A confusion in this game
Weighed safety on my shoreline
In a circle of close friends
My own space and my own time
Yet still I can't pretend
My beach is lacking something
and its glimmering beneath
The waves that wash beneath a sun,
… warm, setting on the reef
With teeth not far beneath the surf
All too ready to bite
Skimmed pebbles glance from anxious turf
Arcs dropping out of sight
Some play skimming, some just drop
Some, they bounce right back
Some go swimming, till it stops
At dusk, as skies grow black
And even after twilight's song
When sleep should have its way
Beneath the waves that glow is strong
The ocean holds its sway
Tempting, when it feels right,
To throw a pebble out
To souls out in the dead of night,
... mired in such doubts
With pebbles all too often held
In slick, damp, sweaty palms
With nothing thrown upon the wind
and no one hurt or harmed
Concerns and worries, cautious, held
Protected by a shell
Precious, brittle, time washed pearls
Hidden where I dwell
Crosses mark our valued troves
The treasures that we hide
Buried in our darkest coves
… and in the black reside
Requiring a light to shine
To validate some shade
Some substance to a doubting mind
With just self interest paid
Not enough to raise a hand
To wade in firm and strong
If you don't know where you stand
… then maybe move along?
Move along with gems and shells
Abandoned to the sea
So other hands, less cautious can
Reap debris from the scree
Claim their trophy, reap rewards
You feel could be yours
But shallow hearts can't beat tides with
Stones yellow, launched from shores
Launched from out a green hued place
With envy for the sea
Wanting something for my space
That never could have been
Yet still I try to judge the depth
These tides, I try to gauge
With strokes too often lacking breadth
… and words spent on page
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