The Aching Ebb and Flow


 The sand slips through the hourglass once again

Rushing through the night

The wind ripples

And its song rises

Until it loses itself in the void

Rose petals fall bleeding upon the pristine snow

On the island of my heart

Around whose shores the searching waters roam

It seems that it recalls

In its aching ebb and flow

Interludes of rapture

Those forbidden moments and passions

That time could never render thin

These thoughts

Pulling me deeper into myself

Piecing together our history

In a place beyond all words

I paint it with colours

Gild it with gold

It is only here that I can I freely reach you

On the margin of dreams

Here, where all past secrets

Will in time come tumbling

Like the jasmine scented breath of spring

Into light

© Ann Bagnall

Red rose on the white snow

3 thoughts on “The Aching Ebb and Flow

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