The Waves

The waves, the waves are rolling in
Rolling in, building and breaking
Rolling in, swelling and swaying
Like an endless dance of to and fro
An endless march of letting go

The sea, the sea is restless still
Restless still, foaming and frothing
Restless still, tugging and teasing
Like an endless rhyme of ebb and flow
An endless ode of undertow

The waves, the waves in endless dance
An endless dance of letting go
An endless rhyme of undertow
Like a swaying march of to and fro
A teasing ode of ebb and flow

The surf, the surf is calling me
Calling me, rumbling and roaring
Calling me, crashing and cresting
Like an endless song of high and low
An endless voice from long ago

The tide, the tide is coming in
Coming in, pushing and pulling
Coming in, bubbling and breathing
Like an endless drawing of the bow
An endless wheel of reap and sow

The waves, the waves in endless song
An endless song from long ago
An endless drawing, reap and sow
Like a cresting voice of high and low
A breathing wheel, a flexing bow

The sand, the sand is shining gold
Shining gold, soaking and shifting
Shining gold, blowing and burning
Like an endless sky of sunset glows
An endless dream of sculpted rows

The waves, the waves are tumbling in
Tumbling in, chasing and churning
Tumbling in, streaking and spraying
Like an endless rhythm, fast and slow
An endless gift of art on show

The sea, the surf, the tide, the sand
Restless, calling, coming, shining
Frothing, roaring, pulling, shifting
Like a rolling wave of gifts on show
A tumbling wave of dreams to know

Wayne Visser © 2016

Book

Wishing Leaves: Favourite Nature Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together nature poems by Wayne Visser, celebrating the diversity, beauty and ever-changing moods of our planet. The anthology includes many old favourites like “I Think I Was a Tree Once” and “A Bug’s Life”, as well as brand new poems like “Monet’s Dream” and “The Environmentalist”. Then as we turned our faces to the moon / Our hands entwined, our hearts in sync, in tune / We felt the fingers of the silken breeze / And made our wishes on the falling leaves / A gust of wind set off a whispered sigh / Among the trees that leaned against the sky.  Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

Share
Share
Share