Port of Call

…

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

I have found, at long last,

 

my final port of call.

 

…

 

 

Share this:

“Port of Call” published at ”yourdailypoem.com”

…

“Port of Call” published at ”yourdailypoem.com”

…

Share this:

“The African Rains” Published at ‘The Blue Hour”

…

“The African Rains” Published at ‘The Blue Hour”

…

Confessions

…

Squandering love, casting emotions aside, friendships carelessly discarded, always scurrying behind my masks to hide, no thoughts for those I have selfishly disregarded.

Trapped within my hubris, innured by conceit, enslaved in the dungeon of past misdeeds, offences I seem gladly prone to often repeat.

Fracturing hearts, siphoning goodwill, tossing feelings by the wayside, generally comfortable for others to foot the bill.

I stand accused, offering no defence, the charges plain for all to see, all appeals for clemency categorically refused.

Accepting responsibility, facing the noose, a charlatan I have been, prowling the boulevards, selfishly on the loose.

What becomes of me, I dare not say, left exposed by my own deceit, splintering moments, reducing truth to ashes, I readily accept the shackles binding my feet.

My confession has been noted, all my farewells have been said, I am lost in the fog of crippling regret, knowing no solace is to be found, I dare not utter another sound, I stand guiltily aware, stricken I am, by all that I am unable to forget

And so it goes, while life hobbles on, I feel too old to live a lie, and so I ask for forgiveness today, knowing all too well, that my shallow words, can never take the pain I have caused away.

My confessions here are for all to see, I stand guilty in front of you, I have no excuses to concoct, no more yarns to spin, I am exhausted by my very own spineless lack of decency, and the absence of any gesture of penitence still.

The defence rests, with an admission of guilt, no more hiding behind fancy talk, I stand accused, and I accept my fate, if need be to the gallows I shall readily walk.

It may be far too late, to offer apologies, yet I do so nonetheless, and for once I do so sincerely, without fear, for the ones that I have hurt, are the very ones, who have been closest and truly dear.

…