The Grainy Truth Poem by Jayne Downing

The ceaseless pulse of time
Scrubbing the feet of the bay
Where grainy toes of days gone by
Refuse to be washed all away.
Their silver dreams have grown into pearls
That glisten and cling to the waves
But swaying and flowing too heavy to stay,
They ebb and sink to their graves,
Knowing they’ve lost, they look up from the past
And their eyes grow darker with sorrow
At the multi-coloured morning and a new chapter forming
Bringing life-signs from the dawn of tomorrow.