The Sea It Was A Stirring Mass
A
Andrew Blakemore
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The sea it was a stirring mass
A ghostly shade of grey,
The cloud hung like a veil of mist
That drew across the bay.
My saddened heart beat like the waves
That rolled upon the shore,
As I walked along that windswept way
Till I could walk no more.
My mind was filled with questions
And was wracked in deep despair,
A broken soul no place to go
Yet found no answers there.
The ebbing tide drew ever in
And hid the prints I'd made,
Upon the sand, I paused and watched
My footmarks slowly fade.
As they were lost I felt the cold
As evening slipped away,
As there I stood and stared upon
The sea of ghostly grey.
2011
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