Georgina Townley

(Auckland, New Zealand)

In Chains


The sea lies; sleeping giant.
Why don't you ask it of immortality?
Walk to the ocean's gate,
When the moon is swollen white,
Holds the sea in chains.
High Tide
And whisper.
What do you know of immortality?
The sea,
A metal sheet with a sheen
That in its folds
Catches the glint
In the waking sun's eye.
As it sullenly shifts
At the moons command,
Observing all.
Bathed in an eternity of solitude
It watches, but cannot touch.
We think we are lonely

Submitted: Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 21, 2013
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