Here begins and ends the grave of all things:
ocean waters force me to my sporting.
Surfer, skimmer, flying through new blue tubes
where swirling, magical delight confounds;
where mystery of rolling arms are bound
in waves unending, turning me to home.
So, hungry heart is given each new birth;
each ride is promised rivers past all harm
and though my place is lived here on this shore
my waiting for the next wave loved the more.
Oh! mother, for your ocean, I’m enthralled;
‘Fore earth and air and fire, your water calls.
Retired teacher. I write for the sheer joy of it. Prefer form over free verse. Favorite: English sonnet. Attended University of Florida, Gainesville,Fl and Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton. Taught High School English in the '70's.
Freelance Photographer for Hallmark Greeting Card Company in the '70's. Still busy writing poetry.
The Surfer
Here begins and ends the grave of all things:
ocean waters force me to my sporting.
Surfer, skimmer, flying through new blue tubes
where swirling, magical delight confounds;
where mystery of rolling arms are bound
in waves unending, turning me to home.
So, hungry heart is given each new birth;
each ride is promised rivers past all harm
and though my place is lived here on this shore
my waiting for the next wave loved the more.
Oh! mother, for your ocean, I’m enthralled;
‘Fore earth and air and fire, your water calls.