While on an Eastern beach,
you might see,
among trash and seashells
she is fishing,
With the grainy sand at her feet,
and the salty sea breeze,
she is,
casting out, with her daydreaming,
And she searches the horizon
Scanning for a vessel, to escape from
Her isolation, on her sleepless island
Take a scooter down, a dirt bend
with clay stained red,
up a tropical hill to a place,
Where web-footed dogs chase,
girls in pink dresses, they compete for
attention with an empty tourist store,
And she works here selling,
Tear drops draped on strings,
of faith in her, daydreaming,
But before the sun is switched off,
She gets off of work,
Leaving just in time,
To make it to the coastline,
With her mind on a crest,
sailing far far away,
form her landlocked blues, that are waiting,
She's left with her feet,
being cleansed by the sea,
and her eyes losing the sun, while she's,
daydreaming....
This is really neat! I really like the way that you put people into your poems and develope them. You sort of reveal their lives. Very cool! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love it! I want to just read it again and again :) The metaphors are rather thought provoking and intriguing. Bravo!