THE WHARF
Love of soft warm drizzly days
Slowly, strolling along a quiet pier,
Cloud banks cast light upon the waves
Illuminating a sea dance, then disappears
Touched by pure gentle hissing rain
Witnessing waves cleanse the land,
Damp scent of warm, woolen sweater
Sea-mist upon her face and hands.
Tucked in close by the wharf shed
Refreshing thoughts come clear in time,
Each one of them has that special place
Imprinted, in their hearts and mind.
Calm breezes changed the seas direction
Caught up by patterns of flowing rain,
Portraying jaunty perforated polka-dots
Enlightening mystical magic of the main,
Returning along the high tide shore
Waterlogged, wet right to her very skin,
Hair hanging limp, in straggly strands
Content, and happy with the mood she’s in.
written 1998
