Poem
I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours - can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent, we abjure, we will break from our chain, -
We will part, we will fly to - unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me, adored one! - forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which is thine shall expire undebased,
And man shall not break it - whatever thou may'st.
And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
This soul in its bitterest blackness shall be;
And our days seem as swift, and our moments more sweet,
With thee at my side, than with worlds at our feet.
One sigh of thy sorrow, one look of thy love,
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove.
And the heartless may wonder at all I resign -
Thy lips shall reply, not to them, but to mine
Poem
Alone i lay on a wooden raft
Alone i stay in the dark
Alone i pray to survive
Alone i may not survive
Alone i look out the sea
Alone i wake up on the sea
Alone i seek out for help
Alone i may not survive
Alone i eat my dry food
Alone i drink the salty water
Alone i sit in the cold
Alone i may not survive
Alone, yes, alone i stare at the storm
Alone, yes, alone i live on the sea
Alone, yes, alone i wait for the rescue boat
Alone, yes, alone i may not survive
Alone, yes, alone i pray to be safe
Alone, yes, alone i call out for help
Alone, yes, alone i get on the boat
Alone, yes, alone i was rescued
Alone, yes, alone i lived on sea for months
Alone, yes, alone i walk ashore unaided
Alone, yes, alone i continue to hold the
Guinness World Record for survival at sea
Poem
the wavy hard sand
was massaging my feet
when a startled crab
in the shallow sea
danced away from me
it doubted a while
should I dig in here
or tango some further
It tangoed quite a bit on
A score of small fishes
waltzed fast to the deep of the sea
Was is the crab
or were they also afraid of me?
But the most wonderful dance
was still performed by the waves
white pearls of sweat
ornamented their foreheads
they made the music
they sculpted the sand
The sand that was wavy
and still was massaging my feet.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
this poem is meant for beach lovers
I love the
Beach beach beach beach beach
Beach beach beach beach beach
Beach beach beach beach beach
Sooo Much
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