chris ryder

A Return To The Past

once again i stand on the surf torn shore,
once again you are in my arms,
once again your hair seeks to escape my grasp,
to flow in the wind like some golden stream,

once again the tide roars in like an enraged beast,
you huddle up to me, i stand forward,
i bellow my challenge back to the waves,
for a moment the waves subside,

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