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My Hanging Keep

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Now the brewing breeze is getting warm
And singing songs of coming storms
Which grow so tall and dark afar
To loose their wrath through skies ajar
For a while

For a while I lay my weary head
Upon a softly-swaying bed
And hear the rumble as waves sweep
The shores beneath my hanging keep
And I smile

And I smile as the streaking sun
Sits down upon my brow and runs
Down to my weary face unwound
It serenades my soul unbound
My eyes close

My eyes close down as the drumming rain
It mixes with the boundless grains
Of sand that darken in the storm
That hangs above in perfect form
Time will pass

Time will pass until at last I’ll leave
A hole inside—for long I’ll grieve
For my retreat, my swaying bed
To which I’ll always look ahead
Until all

Until all the rain stops falling down
And all the sunrays cast a frown
My hanging keep falls from its height
And waves recede into the night
Forever

Forever I’ll love this place I see
Because those things will never be
I will be always coming back
To throw the troubles off my back
I will sit

I will sit upon my hanging keep
As sea spray flies up from the deep
And sunlight plays so happily
Above the everlasting sea




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RobEJ said...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 3:51 pm:
I wrote this poem about my favorite vacation spot, Pawleys Island. Please comment!
 
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