Saturday, March 07, 2015

The Sailor And She

they call her messy
nails dug in soil
of pots and leaves
brown and green

she smells of rain
and the breezes flowing from north
wherein lay messages
of the sailor
the long forgotten love
across distant lands
and tales

awaiting new letters
she unearths the old ones
from those pots
the pages wrinkled
but not his scent

"How long has it been?"
she wonders
the waning and waxing of moon
and her dreams

the laughter nearby
through open windows
makes her envious
yet, the hope trickles
down the lingering clouds
"Perhaps tomorrow
he will be back"
not knowing her wishes
are there to crack

This Poem is shared with Three Word Wednesday - Calculating, Envious, Messy.