Newton-under-Roseberry Churchyard … Photo Collage – WHB Oct.2016
TO ABSENT FRIENDS
As the distended rollers break
Upon that ocean shore
I think of all the hearts that beat
But now will beat no more.
Friends who were once so close to me
Whose lives with me were one
Who now have lost their lust for life
Lost it, and have gone.
Sadness is no gift to sorrow
But memories linger on
It’s when I watch the ocean’s waves
It’s them I think upon.
Why this should be I do not know
For me there’s no release
It is the breathing of the waves
Confirms our own will cease.
Perhaps it is their constancy,
Their never ending thrust
Confirms our own ephemeral lives
Will end soon, as they must.
Roland's Ragbag 
A toast to absent friends Roland. You strike a fitting chord in your poem in the relationship to the sea and thoughts of our mortality. Is this why we are so attracted to beaches and water?
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Yes, Davy. I do find it somewhat strange though, as one should reasonably expect the engendered thoughts to be of consistency and longevity. Thank you for commenting.
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Another great poem. Sad though 😕
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Thank you, A.
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Found this very moving…………….
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Many thanks for responding, Cate.
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