Watching the Breakers

Bitter at after, done with
his red rose lies revealed–
ripping her raw,
till she became wind, water–
a purple storm surging,
crashing on the rocks

~in shadowed mist~

dreams are created,
embracing all the ifs
born of hope—or despair—lingering
like the caress of the sea
in the touch of a salt breeze, recalling
what once was and the words that would never be said.

My message from the Oracle took some work today, but it finally came through, and then a bit of added inspiration from Winslow Homer. Thanks to Jane Dougherty for sharing a fix for the formatting.

31 thoughts on “Watching the Breakers

  1. Oh so well done, Merril. The wildness of the image perfect to go with the torrent of emotions, felt.

    Hmmm… Wonder where Jane got the “how to” from 😉

  2. We have so many of the same images, though with different results. The mist and the shadows is central though, and we both had that. A touch of melancholy in yours though, and for once, mine is a bit more hopeful 🙂

  3. Beautiful! I believe love relationships are like the ocean, serene and calm with ebb and flow, until circumstances create that tidal storm that can be so destructive nothing will ever be the same again!

  4. I love the wildness of the painting and the poem. Shades of the Brontes. It tingled my skin to read “his red rose lies.” My mind kept reading lips but lies come from lips so … there we are 😉

  5. I love the last two lines…the recollection of words that would never be said. People often stand beside the sea and ponder their lives; the salty breeze does inspire reflection. I think this piece is wistfully beautiful…the haunting saga of a broken heart.

  6. Wonderful poem/prose/message, Merril.
    I adore Homer Winslow’s work. I have a gift, a book of his paintings. It was given to me by Sam Waterston, at the end of a movie we worked on together.
    Thank you for this lovely reminder of a special memory!

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