Monday, November 12, 2012

The Sentinel

The glow of the lone sentinel revealing the tips of wave after wave,
casting about turning black to gray,
infinite shades on a still, calm bay,
betrayed only by caps of white,
cresting a sandbar in the ink of night.

The roll of the sea adding rhythm to symphony of wave after wave,
calling to the heart searching for peace,
stretching in the distance to never cease,
crescendo of song to soul's delight
bringing life to the ink of night.

The musk of salt air cascading over all from wave after wave,
oddly fresh while screaming of life,
assaulting senses and healing strife,
finishing the mend of a long day's plight
and completing the salve of the ink of night.

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