Is It Poetry
The Sea It Calls
Over the sound,
the sound the waves made.
Footprints to the edge
in time, it stops.
Along the beach
I do as well.
To sit and watch, it stop.
It never does,
she watches from
the bench, the park put in.
Always kind she waits.
She waits, this time.
With nothing on her mind.
Except the clock,
she left behind, inside her home.
The church bell rings,
hear it ring.
A purpose once she had.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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