Rising Tide (English sonnet)
by Ben Pickard
I do not swim for shore with any zest,
The way I used to do when I was young,
For then I thought that life and love were best
And craved to sing the songs that were unsung.
Where once I could have fallen and have flown,
The heights now leave me feeling dazed and sick;
While all the seeds I planted and have grown
Are rotting grains that choke and lodge and stick.
So hold the shore and keep the sea at bay,
And know those forts you scale will crumble yet;
If romance calls, know night will follow day
And love will lead to damage and regret.
If moats were swam and castle walls were breached,
Why do I stand upon an empty beach?