photo by cheryl
On The Winter Beach
I walk on the winter beach
from here to there
and beyond where the beach ends
past indifferent seagulls
over beached kelps
over bleached seashells
to the sound of crushing waves
to the call of ebbing memories
I walk on the winter beach
I shall go
I must go
alone
beyond where the beach ends.
by
Suchoon Mo_
photo by cheryl
I do not know how I may seem to others,
but to myself I am only a small child wandering upon the vast shores of knowledge,
every now and then finding a small bright pebble to be contented with.
Plato
3 comments:
Hello Cheryl
I love your photo and the two poems are beautiful too.
A winter beach, with sunshine, is magical.
Thank you for this post
Helenxx
So beautiful and poignant. I hope you are doing well, and wishing you many more walks along the beach in winter and finding many more bright pebbles as you continue your journey.......
Hello Cheryl:
The images and the poems complement each other beautifully. We particularly like the second one with the pebbles buried in the sand as it is so beguilingly textural and with a fascinating play of light and shade.
We agree that the beach in winter is magical. And for us, a very rough sea is our idea of perfection.
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