waves

By Paul A. Bourne


The waves -
just watch them caress the banks
with childish anger
while they
conference without confrontation.
I saw
a young love in its midst,
for the unity was magnetic.

The waves -
just watch them
drum the sounds of the jazz bands, and
bellow away like furious preachers.
Watch, look, open, see!
Just watch them
race competitively for the clan’s call;
no royal coronation offers that lift -
a concept of sweet taste,
the prowess of pure language,
the scenery of priceless splendour;
too sumptuous not for partial consumption,
the beauty is dove-like, and
memoirs haunting.


The waves -
just watch them in fragility,
carving, co-authoring the unknown destiny.
Calm, settled no chilled liqueur -
a creation that justifies peace!
An input that fills the void soul
for the offerings are a wealth in piece.


The waves -
just watch them come alive
like the simplicity of the rainbow!
Unfolding with a petal’s ending,
‘unchained’ by bribery.
Shedding the old, but never new -
In the single call of an ‘eye-fall’.
The experience that wants . . .
Then, pass on that baton.