Other

The sun comes out and plays a little
But his heart isn’t in it
His soul is elsewhere
With other seas, other oceans
And other winds,
Other excitement and beauty.
He looks backs at known destinations
And feels spring anew.

Cold, the Med churns and bolts,
Rocks against jetties,
Rolls on dirty sand and finds solace
In ever present torn sea grass.

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About emmylgant

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

17 Responses to Other

  1. PapaBear says:

    “The sun comes out and plays a little
    But his heart isn’t in it
    His soul is elsewhere”……………, sounds like me. Been that way a lot lately ! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. themodernidiot says:

    Hard when both are fighting in your head

    Like

  3. john zande says:

    But his heart isn’t in it. Brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Beautifully written as ever, but a strangely subdued, even depressed, view of paradise, ma chère Emmy

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Suzanne Richmond says:

    Lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

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