Ocean Gypsy• Show poetry

Tried to take it all away
Learn her freedom just inside a day
And find her soul
To find their fears allayed

Tried to make her love their own
They took her love they left her there
They gave her nothing back
That she would want to own

Gold and silver rings and stones
Dances slowly of the moon
No-one else can know
She stands alone

Sleeping dreams will reach for her
She cannot say the words they need
She knows she's alone
And she is free

Ocean gypsy of the moon
The sun has made a thousand nights
For you to hold

Ocean gypsy where are you
The shadows followed by the stars
Have turned to gold, turned to gold

Then she met a hollow soul
Filled him with her light
And was consoled she was the moon
And he, the sun was gold

Eyes were blinded with his light
The sun she gave
Reflected back the night
The moon was waning almost out of sight

Softly ocean gypsy calls
Silence holds the stars awhile
They smile sadly
For her where she falls

Just the time before the dawn
The sea is hushed
The ocean calls her
Day has taken her and now she's gone


No-one noticed when she died
Ocean gypsy shackled to the tide
The ebbing waves were turning
Spreading wide

Something gone within her eyes
Her fingers lifeless stroke the sand
Her battered soul was lost
She was abandoned

Silken threads like wings still shine
Winds take pleasure still make patterns
In her lovely hair
So dark and fine

Stands on high beneath the seas
Cries no more
Her tears have dried
Oceans weep for her the ocean sighs
~~~


The most important things are the hardest things to say.
They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them...words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out.

But it's more than that, isn't it?
The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure that your enemies would love to steal away.

And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it.

That's the worst, I think.
When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear...