Over the sea
A poem
Over the roaring sea,
gentle memories fly away.
They rock my tired boat,
and caress my tangled thoughts.
What more can I do other than moan and mourn?
Swiftly, gently, we’re nothing more.
Discussion about this post
No posts
Over the roaring sea,
gentle memories fly away.
They rock my tired boat,
and caress my tangled thoughts.
What more can I do other than moan and mourn?
Swiftly, gently, we’re nothing more.
No posts
This has me compare the relentless ebb and flow of the tides with the inevitable march of time.
Also, the ocean is a symbol for the unconscious, a connection i think you invoked well with the phrase "tangled thoughts'.