Rosy glows bloom pinkly on cheeks
Snow flake petals fall, crisp and cold,
but after a few dozen weeks
those winter analogies get old.
They’re just a form of denial
wrapped ‘round a soft core of longing
A dream of a tropical isle
Sandal-ing and sarong-ing
An un-winter type place to go
where the sand is as white as snow.
#347
Standing barefoot on the edge of the ocean
waves pounding, ocean heartbeat calling me
to sleep and yet my eyes
will not close.
Slowly, the surf eats away the sand
beneath my feet
grain by grain undermining
my body’s resolve to stay awake until,
my foundation dissolved, I crumble
into exhaustion only to rise again,
red eyed and unrefreshed to
face the waves once more.
#196
Come close.
Put your ear next to mine.
Can you hear the sound of the ocean?
I can.
I hear waves on a beach I’ll never visit,
gulls on a horizon I’ll never see.
The trick is to not care anymore.
To let it trickle away
like the sand pulled backwards
by the surf.
Come close.
Put your ear next to mine and sigh.
I showed you my ocean,
now you show me yours.
#108
My CD "New Traditions" is available for listening or digital download
My CD "Breathe" is available to listen to or for digital download
Linda Studley is a writer, songwriter, independent recording artist, and sometime graphic artist living in Northern BC, Canada
Linda Studley 