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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Mushrooms, Splinters, and Thorns
#671613 added October 13, 2009 at 6:36pm
Restrictions: None
Beach
Beach

When the young woman appears,
like a shadow in an empty mirror,
the breeze on salty water
brings in the sea foam
on to the sandy beach.
To her, turquoise waves,
dunes, gulls, crustaceans,
all speak of the same thing,
and she kneels and digs
beneath the sand
for sea shells and memories,
something to keep for eternity,
something that floats and glides
far over the horizon
to the other side of the ocean
where warplanes burn,
rumbling, roaring,
high into the red sun,
where the one who left
does not hear the surf anymore.

© Copyright 2009 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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