Not Really A Sea Poem

Full moon and a clear night,

North Star a steady beacon,

Tilted Dipper pouring out stars.

Wading into the dew-drench,

Pasture filled with white clover

Flowing and ebbing in the wind

Like whitecaps on a green sea

Tossing a treasure of pearls,

Here and there spumes of fireflies

Shimmering like St. Elmo's fire,

At the deep edge of the horizon

The masts of tall oaks, their sails

Rippling and filling with moonlight,

Leaning before the wind to where

All my maps warn the world ends.





Poetry by countryfog
Read 795 times
Written on 2013-06-08 at 17:29

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Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!
Beauty dances in your words
A joy to read
Thanks for sharing
N T
2013-06-11



The fog has lifted from a brimming sea to whet a primal appetite within you and me.... Hence a spontaneous outburst ensues from your inspiring activity of late. Thanks for sharing and prodding.
2013-06-11


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a gem, Fog.
2013-06-09



Also makes me think of Richter's 'Sea of Grass' novel. Though not set on water, the images effectively recall the sea. Beautiful analogies.
2013-06-08



This is a truly lovely poem full of such lovely images and I know You say it is not really a sea poem ...well for someone born by the sea and who lives by it, it certainly seems like one to me:)
2013-06-08



I think this qualifies as a sea poem. A book I read as a kid, whose content escapes me, but whose title stuck, was "The Sea of Grass," by Conrad Richter. I relate to this poem, it elegantly captures what I know to be true, the meadow, the tree line, the canopy, the fireflies, can easily be compared, as you have, to the sea. The last lines adds the fear and draw of the unknown.

Funny how Joe's love of sailing has led us Midwesterners into unknown waters.
2013-06-08