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Misted islands, rainbow kissed
by the horizon, for just a moment.
The brief romance dissipates
as grey envelops grey,
curtaining the vista once more.
Capricious waters tease
and crest and dissolve
to foam-caul and tender ripples
along a narrow shore.
Seagulls nestle in sand-drift pockets.
A black islet rises mid flowing jade;
a Japanese garden,
with windswept, bonsai she-oak
hugging against sedge-rise
and tumbles of lichen-stone.
The hush of breaking crests,
imbue the senses
to an eternal world of ebb and flow,
the tidal rhythm a constant.

Rose Frankcombe © 2007

Published in Word Weavers - An Anthology of Poetry, 2010

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East Coast, Tasmania, Australia. Image: Rose Frankcombe

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