Friday, February 3, 2012


The swish of tyres on a quiet morn
driving from an unknown place
to a place as yet unknown
like the wash of a moving sea
filled with memories
of glittering sands
on sun washed shores
secret caves in the deep below
mysterious creatures on the ocean floor
the creak of planks on pirate ships
sleek motor boats on pleasure trips
children's cries, old men's sighs
eagle wings sweeping the skies
the tides
brush the shores
with gentle fingers,
imprinting invisible dreams
on the brow of the sleeping land

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