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 )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(22 March 1941 -)
(30 October 1885 – 1 November 1972)
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