Strand

[franklyfedup]

Strands made of cockles
crabs, pounded shell
sun warmed and basted
in an iodine brine
shine yellow against an
azure cloth sky
speckles of white float serenely past

The raging foam sweeps
over slender tanned thighs
her laughter pealing
down through
the years

He returns to the thought
as oft as he can
to those moments of bliss
in a restless tide

[Billy]

I like stanzas 2 and 3. The first stanza I'm trying to connect to the whole poem and I'm not sure what's going on in that stanza. You paint a good picture of longing.

[franklyfedup]

Thanks Billy, Glad you liked. Should I explain poems, not sure I should. I would love to but then I feel I have failed to convey.