Restless waves thrash the shingle,
see our soul stretched across the sea.
It yearns to cross the horizon; searching for
a world lost.
A low sky; the underside of an eyelid
that closes on us.
And silver fingers of wind twist a chain around sore borders.
The last
struggle
of our
Land's End.
It haunts us.
-
Author:
toomanypetals (
Offline) - Published: June 28th, 2016 15:41
- Comment from author about the poem: Inspired by the Referendum and written in rhythm to Satie's Gnossienne.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments4
WELCOME TMP ~ Thanks for your first poem ~ it is elegant in both form and content. I agree with you that the beautiful piano solo (Eric Satie ~ Gnossienne No 1. 1844) has just the right tempo and pathos to accompany the poem. The subject (for me and 16 M others) is heart rending. Through a referendum we didn't need we have sacrificed stability for instability and the cohesion of the UK and the shelter of the EU ~ to satiate a fantasy UKIP vision of "Litttle England". We are now a "lost world" with "sore borders" and the "White Cliffs of Dover" are once again the limit of our blinkered horizon ! Thanks for caring and sharing ~ Yours BRIAN
Merci beaucoup pour Erik Satie. Je t'adore.
A demain un poème pour toi !
Bisous...💋💋- Je suis Européenne...
You express yourself brilliantly through this poem, the words create great imagery. I loved reading it
Thank you for your kind and encouraging comments. I'm in Scotland, so we face the prospect of another 'breaking away' - the profound sadness I feel, I can only express through reading and writing poetry.
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