Old Poetry Poetry • Poets • Essays • Forums •

Waves

We sighed of old till underneath His feet
Our pulses beat,
Again to sigh in restlessness until
He saith, "Be still."


And with us is the ever-moving wind,
And all mankind—
A triple chorus—each upheaving breast,
A sigh for rest.

Leave a guest comment (subject to review)

    : Comment:

    Name: (required)
    Email: (required, hidden from spam)