Treasure Island

Ina SchrodersZeeders

(West Terschelling)

This Must Not Go


The scent of the ripened fruit you eat
While I am sitting quiet at your feet
And just the whisper of the undertow
This must not go

Watching your fedora out of reach
rolling away over the empty beach
And just the whisper of the undertow
This must not go

The comfort of your body being near
The soundless spoken words so very dear
And just the whisper of the undertow
This must not go

Submitted: Monday, July 18, 2011
Edited: Monday, July 18, 2011

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