Poems: Homonyms

I stand

By the by

Wondering

Whether the weather

Will bear to-day bare winds

And cause waves to soar

Like blue of a bruise or sore

And see the sea

Stumble in its wait

To rid of the weight

Hitching it to cool temper

And like a horse

It would give a hoarse roar

As it began to slay

The artificial sleigh of sand

Now foaming at its mouth

And travel in freedom for a week

Till the tempest grew weak

Sometimes it heard

The rest of the herd of waves

And this would give it strength

To double back

To the beach

The sleigh crafted of beech

And piece by piece

Peace would gather

In the shallows

But yet it still threw

Occasional shells

Through the rifting water

And coarse sailor rope

Of course

But in the morning

It would be in mourning

Of its decision to return

To the dull shore and sleigh

And the next storm

Would start again