Poem Hunter
CA (01.07.1987 / Bucharest)


They swing along the dancing water
Enveloped in its frothy gown
The endless whispers float and splatter
Reverse and forward, up and down

Same changing rhythms never ending.
Lace spirals stretching for the shore
Stroke up the thirsty sand awaiting
For the soaked ground to unseal its core

Between the shore and restless ocean
The unceasing run to break apart
To feel the sand in standing motion
For one glimpse throbbing of the heart

Beneath the stars the lace blood lingers
Mid pristine waves of cellophane
Caught in the whorl's white curling fingers
Each crash in yearn to loose the chain

Shadows of bliss beyond the shoreline
Enwrap the sand and water skin
As the white gauze seeks for the coast shrine
To entomb its tumult deep within

Under the starlight's gloomy painting
In endless flowing with the tide
The waves stroke up the sand awaiting.
When will the whisper die inside?

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Comments (1)

You only used the word 'waves' at the very end but this poem spoke about the waves, the shapes and the motion of them, the sounds and those whispers.....in my opinion a perfectly executed poem and a sensual read. Well done, Cristea. Love, Fran xx