I hear the thunder of the surf.
In the distance sea birds cry.
The tremors vibrate through the earth,
I walk on beneath the sky.
As yet I cannot see the sea.
It is waiting patiently.

My feet tread on the springy turf
but there is no urgency.
What is a day of freedom worth?
If you must watch constantly
the passing hours giving birth.
Time does not exist for me.

I reach the edge and have to stop,
lacking wings I cannot fly.
But I can see from this cliff top.
The ocean merges with the sea
That’s where dreams can develop,
a surreal fantasy.


by ivor .e hogg

Comments (2)

and you say you dont write much! ! ! ...but what you write you write beautiful...loved it...would you be posting your wife's poetry too...would love to read that too...i love the sea...you poem took me there...the ending is beautiful, Ivor, really so...love...nalini
'The ocean merges with the sea' - mmm.......I can smell the ozone. Delightful poem, Ivor. Love, Fran xx