…so soft and low   

The desolate beauty of the placid ocean
windless and waveless, shifting with a softness
that belies her depths
her surface glassy and touched with the colours
of both day and night
her voice subdued, almost a whisper
as if it is her secrets that she sings
so soft and low, released to fly free into the sky above
secrets never revealed to the depths below
yet in the labyrinthian fathoms of her underworld
endless unspoken stories still remain
tales of love and of loss, of joy and of pain
she drifts aimless and empty, night after day after night after day
her only companions the sun and the moon
her distant lovers who come and go with little regard for her heart
leaving her in endless confusion
shifting back and forth between the light and the dark
and as she ponders her plight
the blue winds of sorrow and the black winds of loss
circle the all-seeing night
now rage comes upon her
and her waves and her winds are rising again
her whispers becoming a roaring storm
beware the wrath of a woman scorned
© Ann Bagnall