French lace parasol as delicate as her failing heart
used like a shield by fragile fingers to buffet wind and sun,
while she rests between breaths to stroll the shore with her young son
and the waves sing a song that remind of her husband lost at sea.
The tide crests in its magical salty perfume
she tries to inhale and let it intoxicate
with all the passion that it did for her love
unable to stop thinking with pain over the dreaded storm
that swallowed his ship and all its lives.
Hoping the child will find his own dreams when she is gone
wishing her soul could become a mermaid to join her mate in murky deep.
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Now this is a stunning poem you have penned.The imagery and rhythm is outstanding
