You said it was like the sea coming to the shore,
the last wave overwhelmed by just one more,
the water boils with jealousy unjust
until fear cools it - as it must.
Sadness laps our hearts, anger roils over despair
but before foaming hate submerges us, take care;
be patient, wait! Ensure the count is seven -
that wave comes, and we are in heaven.

Comments
jennifer | March 18, 2009 - 12:57
Like a lullaby, soothing and sad...and so true, the ebb and fall...I'll remember to count to seven next time!
J x
threeleafshamrock | March 19, 2009 - 12:41
Great use of imagery; and true, so true! Nice one!
Chris
littleditty | March 20, 2009 - 20:15
that's a lovely poem, enjoyed :)