immense the sea
gnarly the surge
onyx the cloak
the language of Teutons
shrieks subjugation
howls revenge
Storm Force 10
shows no remorse
takes no prisoners

Driftwood Girl
she does not
have a care
she travels on the tide
the harbour wall
her occasional gîte
the beach
her catwalk

to this day
she sings songs
of destiny
love and loss,
seaweed, faith adrift,
the sudden dive
of the cormorant
seeking breakfast, and
the message in the bottle
penned by the
desolate marooned one

I am old now
once I knew her well
she defies time, does
Driftwood Girl
she remains
forever new

her axiom
‘time and tide
waits only
for the cuttlefish’
always serves
to amuse

the big sea
has yet to find a way
to intimidate her
though even now
without malice
without forethought
there are the hearts of
generations of credulous
fledgling mariners
still to be broken

A poem from my 2015 book, ‘Gentlemen Prefer a Pulse’

Should any of you fancy an audacious mix of lunacy and social history then my new factual book ‘An Only Child & His Mum’s Amazing Germ Phobia’ might well be up your street. Either the book in print or as Kindle is available via the link to Amazon that lurks below.

Copyright © 2021. All rights reserved. Unauthorised copying, reproduction, hiring, and lending, prohibited although in a crisis I’ve no issue with any reader using the pages of said book as emergency’s loo roll.

51 thoughts on “DRIFTWOOD GIRL

    1. My thanks, Tara. By the way, I follow you yet my Reader never comes up with your posts. I have a curse of these problems that WP seems to not care about. That said, your work is sublime. Regards, The Old Fool

      1. No worries, Mike. I’ve had the same issues myself, on and off, where sometimes people I follow won’t show up. It’s frustrating, to be sure. 😌

    1. My thanks to you, young Holly, the gal who writes stupendous love and romance in poetry with a vital pinch of heartfelt, undeniably authenticity. Your work in sublime. Cheers, The Old Fool

  1. Listening to the song. It’s very pretty, TOF!
    The poem is super, and the style of prose unique to you, continues on in The Snow White Tigress.
    It has become my bedtime reading. It is wonderful to hold a book, while reading.
    I like my laptop, but it has comfort red lines.
    Thank you for this poem!

    1. Thank you for reading both poem and book, young Resa. I have tried the Kindle thingy yet can’t get my head around it. Imagine a sad world deprived of bookcases. Have a splendid day. Regards, TOF

  2. Oooo, I really love this one, Master Steeden! I could picture this kind of soul perfectly, and it really is as driftwood–it is never sunken, never dragged down. It may stop awhile on shores, but it will find its way back to the sea only to be tangled up again, freed again, beached again. Never-changing. xxxxxxx

    1. I miss my ‘almost poetry’ like this one, Ms Lee. Soon I shall return to that very thing. Ideal for one’s dotage, methinks. I trust all is well with you and yours. My regards.

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