He stood on the hill looking down over the sea,
the tide was coming in and it was time for tea.
He was not hungry so he thought he would
stay a while more, but would he get caught by the
waves that were heading on to the shore.
The hill led straight on to the sand because some
of it had gone to the land. No break water just fierce
big wave and he knew in his heart he had to be brave.
The wind was up and the waves got stronger could this
young lad hang on any longer.
He shouted for help but no help came, then all of a
sudden everyone new his name, because he told a story
that was always the same.
It was a story that he could tell, because it was true
about the day he nearly drowned in a sea of blue.
Knee deep in sea water and salt in his eyes, he could
not explain what came down from the skies. He was pulled
from the sea then put on dry land, then someone stroked
him with a gentle hand. Take care my son were the words
he said don't play with the tide just go home to bed.
He could not believe what happened that day, but he told
the story anyway. He went through life and grew up brave
and he often wondered who saved him from that final
wave.
A poem of extraordinary beauty. Very consoling and inspiring. You are such a gifted story teller. It would be impossible not to be touched by this one. Love from your sister and friend, Sandra
A poem of grace and gentle strength. What wonderful imagry!
As always, you make me think of the Oral Storytellers of Olden days, when there were no writers, just Storytellers, the ones who could take a simple story and tell it to a group of listeners and make it something to be remembered! You are a true STORYTELLER!
Compelling read and for once with the sea, a happy outcome. Patrick xx
AWESOME WRITE OF STRENGTH AND ENCOURAGEMENT, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL HAND THAT PLACED SUCH WORDS IT MUST BE OUR ONE AND ONLY.... SYLVIA SPENCER OR SIS AS I HAVE COME TO KNOW HER TOP CLASS POETRY FROM A TOP CLASS GIRL LOVE duncan XXXXXXX
Knee deep in sea water and salt in his eyes, he could not explain what came down from the skys. He was pulled from the sea then put on dry land, then someone stroaked him with a gentle hand. Take care my son were the words he said don't play with the tide just go home to bed. This Sylvia spencer use words very simply to panetrate a deep frightening -soaring pictures....
Lovely poem, lovely ending, lovely storyline. Great read. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sylvia...my husband had this experience when he was 10 and was saved by a kind fisherman...he read the poem and liked it a lot...love...nalini