It was from seas of west
that blew the waves
from its mighty chest
blown over sandy graves.
Thunder echoes the skies
and in darkness it lights
and waves they rise
and day creeps to night.
My sea, my sea, I look
you scatter debris on lands
lap by lap the waves took
on washed up sands.
Quite inspiring. I see the Irish Sea, passionate tempest-like and potently over looming any passer-by of the shore.
This is very vague as to meaning. Particularly, as it relates to the title of this stanza. Waves are the dominant feature here. I had to give it my vagueness mark of 6. GW62
nice work Andrew you hav a deep feelings and you show it, i love it :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Andrew What a fantastic poem