My treasure I hide from the storms, as the
Water turns to foam on the rocks.
She when I'm weary will say as she sighs,
Read the hidden words and remember my works
Comfort in night and long days.
I have drank with my lips from the sea and the sea,
Is not hidden from me though the rest
Whom see will not tell.
As sure as it sings that one special song, the song
That it sings for me.
Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem