Elia Michael


Pervola


There is a shore which they call Pervola
I walked along it on an autumn day
I passed a structure like a pagoda
Of rusty iron and so much decay
And sadness came upon me for a while
Then I could hear the gentle sound of sea
A sea so blue I could not help but smile
And sadness was no longer part of me
I walked alone that day along the shore
Until it dawned on me that sky and sea
And golden sun and salty air and more
Oh so much more, were spending time with me
This is my shore where I am not alone
Where breezes brush the sea and gently moan

Submitted: Sunday, July 13, 2014
Edited: Monday, July 14, 2014

Topic of this poem: nature


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