Monday, 7 January 2013

Time and Tide

The genesis for this poem was written in 1976. I have only recently revised it.

Regular reader will be familiar with the sea – in all its moods, and as they reflect my own - as a theme for many later poems.

Sometimes, the sea inspires me; sometimes it comforts me; sometimes it scares me, especially as I grow old(er) and am inclined to see it as a living metaphor for a splendid vastness that will surely (for good or ill, better or worse) one day claim my spirit.


The lonely sea
laps at my feet, stars in the sky
small comfort;
on a hushed beach,
a huge white moon winks wryly
at me

Sun, sea, sand,
slipping through weepy fingers
like kinder times;
life, death, love,
hovering low above, still waiting
for Godot

Wind grown cold,
I growing old with all the stoicism
of a sand statue;

night-pools, they swirl
around me, surprise, confound me
with home truths

Though I dare
a sleepy shore’s passions reawaken,
I know…
why the lonely sea
laps at my feet,  stars in the sky
small comfort

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in  Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]

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