These poems have little in common except for an underlying theme of water.
Moss Beach
The gulls take flight before our steps
they catch the wind and rise to float
weightless
free from the strain of earthly grasp
that holds the feet
of lesser beings
Cold is the wind that blows through our hair
as cool as the spray from crashing waves
that leave the taste of salty tears
on the lips
and tongues
of those who walk this sandy path
Burning Books
Fires on the beach at night
leap high into the darkened sky
higher than the waves that crash
upon the westward shore
Faces glow intensely red
as we circle round the ring of stone
our steps are linked with those before
driven by the ancient calls
Fuel for life, fuel for living
gathered for her wanton graces
I only meant to burn the books
instead I burnt the cases
Sand Angels
The artist works
with brush and canvas
to share his dreams
for all to see
I paint my angels
with grains of sand
and watch my dreams
wash out to sea
