I have lived my life
On sliding sands
A soul which never
Found a hand
To steady me
Within the gale
A flailing ship
Upon the wave.
Love a ragged
Flag to wind
Too many times
I have sinned
And often when
The pain it grew
My thoughts returned
Back to you.
Now the midnight clock
It chimes
To where or when
Ive yet to find
Maybe to reach
A settled land
For my battered soul
To find a hand.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: January 13th, 2026 00:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Lorenz
Offline)
Comments4
A fine write N. You battered?!
well battered lol
You having chips with that battered fish? lol. Yummy.
cant beat fish and chips
hungry now?!
just back from dentists, tooth out ouch lol
A beautiful and mournful poem of sadness that still retains a bit of hope for the future. It is lonely and yearns for company that is not to be found. There is something about the wording itself that calls out to me. A fave
thanking you for kind comments, appreciated
You are most welcome
This midnight clock reaching out to us...
As it does from birth, thanks for reading much appreciated
the longing for an anchor is so well expressed here - great job
Most kind thanking you and much appreciated
you are most welcome
have a good weekend
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