Gray Waves

Gray waves

Gray waves
Of sadness and sorrow
Washing over the land,
Swallow me.

Elusive bubbles of peace
Popping in puddles,
Bursting like wishes,
Swallow me.

Rain or tears running down
Red-rimmed roof tiles,
Bare branches, and bent grass,
Swallow me.

A soul wants to sing and fly;
But a heart, tone-deaf and heavy,
Holding a dirge at daybreak,
Swallows me.

A forsaken bairn wails
In the hollow of a tree; an error,
A mistake, shadowless on a sunny day,
Swallows me.

Stormy weather

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Inner child, Life, Pandora's box, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to Gray Waves

  1. nannus says:

    I hope that is just a poem, not actual depression 🙂

    Like

  2. PapaBear says:

    Ah, Emm, I can empathize with you. It’s been too gray, too cold, and for too long. Winter’s grip has been unrelenting and seems it will never end. Maybe it will warm by June????? Hugs…, and stay warm.
    Paul

    Like

  3. Bairn?
    Un mot Ecossais, UnElephant croit.
    C’est une influence dangereuse!
    Et le gris de la Med est beau toujours.
    Sans la violence du gris du Nord, bien sur.
    Et, comme toujors, ton poeme dit tout, parfaitement.

    Like

    • emmylgant says:

      Je ne sais pas d’ou cela vient, mais je suis sure que c’est dangereux!
      La Med est toujours belle, c’est vrai, mais c’est la pluie qui ne chante pas la meme chanson que mon ame.Tu comprends.

      Like

  4. Such beautiful melancholy

    Like

  5. themodernidiot says:

    I love how “popping in puddles/Bursting like wishes” sounds. It’s like a hopeful distraction.
    The poem’s main sound is like the sound of waves, or like when you’re lulled into listening to a small boat gently bumping the dock it’s tied to. You’re hypnotized by the rhythm of the wave motion then all of a sudden there’s this “bing!” “bing! ” of a bell that breaks the rocking.
    Popping is such a great word for its sharpness, and followed by the low thump of the B in bursting? Fantastique.

    Like

  6. john zande says:

    I hope the weather turns soon, and your mood livens. Grey is good sometimes, special times, but without the colours we can never dance 😉

    Like

  7. Katalina4 says:

    Ahhhh, the winter is long and heavy even on the Med.
    I do believe, as spring returns, the soul and the heart will fly together again.
    Mistakes, errors – how they haunt.
    Exquisite, precise, poignant piece.

    Like

Say something, please.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s