From the Cliff Tops
The waves, in a hurry, like fleeing refugees,
pursued by the invading onrush of the sea ,
Carry their foam babes in their arms
rush, pant and then collapse on the shore .
The sea’s surface distrusts the dialect of its depths
That are haunted by the ruins of human dreams
Only the disturbed, sandy shore has a hint
Of the never ending anger in the blood of the sea .
When the wind gets annoyed with the snoring sea
Its blue turns to slate dark and its submerged
Lost narratives, ghostlike, rise from their graves ,
howl from the cliff tops for their lost earthly loves .
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