Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: James G. Piatt


Teal colored waves, bursting over mossy rocks,
The never-ending sea tossing white foamed sweet
Moisture high into the air, fleeting drops of brine
Upon my face, awaken my drifting senses.

The eternal tide of the ocean, softly
Carries the whisperings of that which is pleasant
Into the smooth hot sand. Visions of things, which
Are beautiful stream quietly, into my soul.

As the peaceful day ends and the ocean’s current,
Ebbs, blue-green sprays of sweet moisture
From the sea’s abundant source wash
Salty dreams into my being, which vanish
Into the joyful rhythms In my mind.


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