There's a crashing in my ears,
having conversations with my soul,
asking unanswerable questions
of a weary resolve.
On an ocean of uncertainty
the tide beats like a drum
of every broken heartbeat.
I drift towards an amber horizon,
wonder whether a flat world
would greet my curious feet.
Out, then in amidst the waves,
still frothing their teeth
before biting the sand.
calling me back to shore,
open arms gesture,
begging for my heart.
Through azure shaded glasses
I watch...I wonder...
do I float...
back into love.
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Comments about this poem (Afloat by Viola Grey )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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