Days are Few.
The days are few when the sea lies still as this.
When ripples are fleeting shadows and
The soft blue –grey of mist
Trails sleepy fingers
Through the air.
The days are few when sweet silence holds sway.
When only the seagulls cackle
Cracks the softness of the day
And the crow’s heckle darkly
As they soar
The days are few when I may take time to watch.
When hours stretch in gentle
Solitude and waves curl and splash.
I sit beside the changing see
And will love it evermore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem