On a boat alone

On a boat alone beyond the bar
Against the ashen light of breaking sea
All noiseless shadows huddled afar
I toil for treasures in the deep.

Brightly across the ocean’s gray
Ripples a’flush in the eastern sky
The birth-hours glow the path away
Smitten dreams to meet the tide.

All hope roister with the wayward winds
Like seagulls soaring in dizzy flight
But home remains a’slumber in the dim
Awakening only to greet my light.

If I were Home …

If I were home
And could stand again
In the blossoming
dawn of Hope,
It would fill my soul
With old-time calm
And let me once more
Hear the call
Of my full-voiced heart.
Then my dreams would lift
Away the snow
And let my life
Again begin
To grow.

Poetry of Home

I have drowned my soul
In the music of this land,
The Woods, the shores, the hills,
Until I have forgotten how to live
Anywhere else.
The tossing of the sea,
The stillness of sand in silver turmoil,
The storm-beaten trees bent in prayer…
But it is a life worth living
If your soul is on the speaking terms
With Poetry.

Solitude is on the shores

Solitude is on the shores
Of Summer twilights,
When the sun is falling
And the old keeps its tryst
With the days it loved.

You will harness your soul then
In the dimming sea,
In the whisk-away surf,
Clothing yourself in the fairy grace
Of whispering trees
And rolling waves of sunset
Gradually disappearing
Into the lost lands
Of beyond.