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blacknessonseapoet

Poem No.142

POEM TITLE spirit


POEM

Winds paint themselves

Into the eyes of the

Mermaid's self portrait.

The sea dances with

Dreams to the sinuous

Music of Blackness on

Sea. Haunting essence

Of the Lobster pot, mermaid

Whispers its stories to

The waters, its mystery

Is caught in the disparate

Places of a small town.

Clouds are like

Coins that never reach

The wishing well,

Boatmasters and mariners

Kept stories they could

Never tell. Sky is

Like a Gypsy in reverie

Who has been persuaded

To stay. Push and pull

Of the tide, inside lobster

Pot landlord pulls pint, part

Of an unofficial covenant,

Customers are granted

Sanctuary. Time between tides, opening hours,

Empty glasses blurred

Through time. Where

Do ghosts reside?, land

Or ocean. Spirits are

Poured into heaven by

The landlord Blackness

On sea, they whisper their stories into a glass full of eternity. Water is Blackness

On seas biographer in

Sound, the stories

Of the undrowned are

Delivered. Images

Not found on postcards,

Eyes of the wind cannot

Find their reflection.

Noise from tides is

Like the ticking of

Pocket watch left on

Hand mirror, an old local

sees two reflections in glass.

Before beginning it's journey

a bottle offers an old man

his final reflection as the eyes

of the wind read the message inside.

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