On the turning tide

[Keith]

On the turning tide

The boat yards full of crooks,
counting the seconds between,
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm has passed.
ragged beneath we missed the rocks
that split belief and alter course.

Morning gulls announce us,
washing up in warmer surf,
lying head back on tiny shells,
seaweed hair floats all around.
We wipe away, our innocence,
sea legs lost then found.



1st attempt
Misspelt names in a lawyer's book,
another couple to suckle, on the bloated belly
of claim and counter, pain and mistrust.
Our story should not be crushed
one to be told, booming in great halls
with dripping goblets and roaring fires,
boar's legs, pig's heads and laughter.
Not lost to papers, shuffled on table tops
picked at by who, has what, and not.

Scream, counting the seconds between,
lightning flash and thunder clap,
take my hand the storm will pass.
The rocks did not dash our craft
ragged beneath we missed the reef.
Washed clean in sea spray showers,
we wipe away, bitter milk from our lips.
slip away, from signatures and begin again,
as morning gulls caw in our new day.