My Love of the Water

The ocean seems endless.
Its gleaming,
And teeming,
Deep dark waters never still.

A lake is human scale.
It’s bounded,
And grounded,
Puddled safely on a sill.

A pool is made of concrete.
It’s contained,
And restrained,
Shaped only by man’s will.

Love can be like an ocean,
Demanding more than I can give.
It can be like a lake,
Providing all I need to live.

But it’s best when like a pool,
Designed and built by him;
It is inviting,
An earned requiting,
Wherein I choose to swim.

Comments

Christina said…
Very cool, LB. Is this a particular poetic form I should know about? I love the structure and the images. Hope you had fun at the beach!
July 25, 2009 at 10:25 PM
Objectiveman said…
Wonderful poem LB.

Rajesh
July 26, 2009 at 9:40 AM
Lynne said…
Poetic form? What's that?

I was reading a whole bunch of Ella Wheeler Wilcox stuff and I just couldn't find one that said what I wanted to say - so I made up my own.

Strangely, I wrote this at the beach. Sometimes I just need to jump in if only for a few minutes!
July 26, 2009 at 9:57 AM
Lynne said…
I'm glad you like it, Rajesh. And thank you.
July 26, 2009 at 10:06 AM
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