... poetry ...

Windswept

mighty blast from ocean blue

tidal urges and swooning beads

form salty trails across my cheeks

the shore lies beaten and bruised

left for dead, a bottomless bag

of friendlies and we cherish the leeks

how so, then, shall she repay

the deed with a favor or a striking

glance from one that so easily forgets

she will repay in earnest purity

with scourges and a pesky breeze

helping the chards to lose interest or regrets

i see now, the once broken brow

of the glaring sea

smiling up in smooth repose

smiling up at me

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