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Tuesday, April 3, 2012

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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

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