THE FOREST GREEN: Polished Stone, an oldie    
 Polished Stone, an oldie5 comments
picture Friday, November 5th 2004, by Marissa A Spencer

Polished Stone

The ocean lay serene and calm
A precious jewel in God's palm.
Meandering, I walk alone,
Finding shell and polished stone.


Cries of gulls fill the air,
My soul is freed of thought or care.
I see you standing on the shore,
Listening to the ceaseless roar.

You stoop down to touch the sand,
And start to write, stick in hand.
A shadowed look crosses your face,
Grieved and cheerless, out of place.

Burdened with the weight of life,
It cuts the soul with frozen knife.
I would gather you unto my heart,
To give what little I can impart.

It's not much to give I know,
I should have given long ago.
Lightly caress, and hold you tight,
To chase away the somber night.

Our hands are clasped together now,
The haunted look lifts from your brow.
The sea rolls in forever strong,
Part of the earth we do belong.

Arm in arm we softly stand,
Friends forever, hand in hand.
To solace with my meager fire,
And cheer you is my heart's desire.

(c) 1998 Marissa A Spencer



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5 comments

5 Nov 2004 @ 09:16 by vaxen : So...
very, very, Marissa. Skookie you da best!

*****
thank you Vax.. I was so very sentimental back then.  



6 Nov 2004 @ 01:10 by koravya : Familiar
Just such a beach
have I walked
through a summer and a winter and another summer
on the western shore of lake Michigan
north of Milwaukee
towards the promontory
where a sturdy old wooden bench
from how many years gone by
I would never know,
and from there in the morning
the sun would rise over the water,
every day unique.  



6 Nov 2004 @ 15:28 by skookum : Did
you ever see anything reall strange or odd?  


7 Nov 2004 @ 07:17 by koravya : I'm sure
This was eleven years ago.
There was a wooden picnic table
washed up on shore one day,
marked with the insignia of
the Michigan state park system.
I dragged it back into the bushes and had another place to sit.
Then there was a massive old tree trunk,
into which someone had carved
Wish You Were Here
in large bold letters.
That old tree trunk had a remarkable
curved shape to it, a real monument.
I did a lot of walking around up and down that beach during that time.
The Harrington Beach State park. It was my back yard.
Strange or Odd? Yes.
And I took a lot of photographs out there to,
since that is one of my pasttimes.
Strange or Odd?  



7 Nov 2004 @ 07:29 by skookum : if one looks at all the
'odd' things... one can see a pattern, a sign, an inspiration in them.  


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