The music is the waves as they run high
Across the pebbly sands onto the road
Then groaning of the shingle as waves die
The fish that dwell deep in the dark, dark brine
The flow within as outer waters flow
The music of the waves as they run high
The moon reflects sun’s light to other eyes
Above the seas which rise up to its goad.
Then groans the shingle as the steep waves die
The sea holds hidden goods where we can’t pry
In the deep the heavy water moulds
The music of the waves as they run high
All the day and all of the black night
The seas and oceans change from high to low
Ah, groans the earth as each wave has to die
Re-hear these sounds, are they a sacred code?
As angels wrestled, Jacob feared the Lord
His music is the waves as they run high
His groaning is the shingle as waves die
Day: November 29, 2020
In the desert grey
I was walking in a desert grey and bleak
All alone, with none to speak or eat
I shuddered when I realised the truth
I was unmarried, pregnant, mere refuse.
Cast out for other failings all unknown
My baby came too soon and I alone
A doctor with no face appeared and said
Your baby died ,I see he’s never fed
He flung my baby on his heap of dead
I lay there in the dirt, red with my blood
I had to leave or I would die of grief
The will to live just stronger than a leaf
I went to see my baby, and he smiled
He was still alive, my love,my child
I took him in my arms, where should we go?
I walked into that darkness full and slow
How my heart sings 