Fay Slimm.

Watching.

 

 

Watching.

 

Sunny sails clutter the bay.
Storm-beaten seagulls shriek shored lament.
Calm, now windless, covers the distance
between shore and ship in misty-grey haze
and she in her Sunday-best
waves to the horizon and incoming kin.

Innocence kicking the sand.
Anxious girl watching as boats haul home.
High-tide laps quiet against harbour wall
and after prayerful pleas for his safe landing
she in her foam-soaked dress
wades in further to welcome him she adores.

Comments8

  • orchidee

    Good write Fay. She would have to rather wade in the river here, about 2 miles away. The sea is about 60 miles from us! Well, she could catch the No.7 bus there. lol.

  • Goldfinch60

    Wonderful write once more Fay, I can see her waking out in the sea to meet him.

    Andy

  • Neville



    what a picture .... such is beauty, such is love ... sent a shiver down me spine ..

    • Fay Slimm.

      A familiar sight is a daughter or two watching vessels brings fathers safe into harbour - as you say my friend - such is close family love. Thank you for stopping by for a read of Watching and hope that shiver has by now stopped.

      • Neville



        it was one of them rare nice shivers ....

      • 1 more comment

      • jarcher54

        You and your happy endings! Here you went and called to mind all those tragic ballads of widows and lovers alone on the strand waiting for the whaler/sailor/fisherman who never comes home. Then you spoiled it! (-:

      • Michael Edwards

        Well I like a happy ending - there's enough doom and gloom at the present time. great stuff.

      • dusk arising

        Awww pictures, pictures, pictures.... I'm writing the play in my mind.
        This has such presence.

        So many questions, so many answers.... lovely composition leaving your reader wanting more.

      • Audax

        Thank you for sharing a wonderful piece to read. I found it enjoyable!

      • L. B. Mek

        instinctively moving,
        reads like a diary of a young heart's: untainted certainty, full of hope and wonder at all the new, yet to be discovered



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