The Place I Call Home.

The sky is so grey

As I look out to sea

The fishermens boats

Bob like little green peas

The wind tugs my collar

My attention to get

And the salt in the air

makes my face feel all wet

The seagulls rise

And dive in the air

Like little white kites

That are going nowhere

The waves crash the beach

Then scramble ashore

Dropping pebbles and sand

Before returning once more

Although it is grey

My heart fills with love

The storm clouds recede

In the sky up above

This feeling of freedom

The urge just to roam

I'll end my days here

In the place I call home.

Poetry by penfold18
Read 443 times
Written on 2006-01-05 at 14:30

Tags Home 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text

Zoya Zaidi
Graham, This is so full of longing, love and passion for the sea, that it tugs at my heart, deep inside, and offcourse your perfect rhyme and meter, as usual, makes it all the mre endearing...You and only you can write like this...Your pen, my dear Pen, is afire these days...So nice to see a poem almost by the hour by you...I really have to catch up with you to make up for my long absence!!!!
((((((Big Hugs)))))
Love, Zoya

Celtic boy
The time for me to leave home is coming nearer every day and I think a lot about where I will be in the future. Your poem gives me hope that I can find somewhere I want to be too. I really did enjoy your thoughts.