When I look to the sea I think of time with it's <br />horizon, that great dividing line. I see the ships <br />that crossed her waters from one's that had sailed <br />with rat infested quarters; yet they sailed so proudly <br />from our shore not knowing what they would find on their <br />new neighbours door. Imigrants by the thousands <br />queued upon the sand because the potato was left to the land. <br />Time passes on, and there were times that were great, <br />when sea captains fought no matter what their fate. <br />Times with brandy and smugglers caves, shipwrecks <br />gone to watery graves.Like the Mary Rose and King Henry's <br />treasure, then when it was discovered it gave such pleasure. <br />The reading of books with Hawkins the boy, great discoveries <br />and land ahoy. Swashbuckling pirates have a place in time, <br />when they walked the plank that was the end of the line. <br />Time never stands still as the waves roll on, they are just <br />like a clock with a loud sounding gong. You can stand and <br />watch them crash upon the shore but all they are doing is knocking, <br />on our front door.<br /><br />sylvia spencer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-place-in-time/
