The smoky mist rose up from the ocean,
As a light fog crept onto the shore,
Then settled in a bewitching stillness,
As the sea’s cast its spell once more.
He ran spirited along the water,
Seeking shells for his mother dear;
Alas, the sea’s tongue licked for him,
As Mom’s voice fell on his ear.
She cried out to her precious darling,
Searched tirelessly, but to no avail;
Followed his small prints near the water,
But found only his small blue pail.
Her grief was great, the loss too heavy,
Until one day she ceased calling his name.
T’was last seen walking into the ocean,
Losing out to the sea’s deadly game.
They say you can still see her out walking,
Clutching in her hand his small blue pail;
She’s following small prints along the water,
As on that foggy day when sea mist fell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad lament, tugs at the heart strings, I enjoyed the ebb and flow :) 10+