As I stand here <br />With feet in sculpted sand <br />I look out to sea <br />For guidance perhaps... <br />Perhaps for hope... <br />Perhaps for a sign... <br />Who really knows <br /> <br />Waves toss seaweed <br />Like a limp rag doll <br />And the ocean... <br />Churns the depths below <br /> <br />I offer up my soul <br />But alas... <br />It returns to me <br />Along with the flotsam <br /> <br />Apparently... <br />It is not perfection <br />It is not... <br />Of virginal purity... <br />And so... <br />Here I stand... <br />Waiting to be corrected <br /> <br />Please... <br /> Let the frigid wind <br /> That blows the gale fierce <br />Blow through these bones... <br />And tear away my pain <br />Let it cast away my torment <br />Let it whip through my very being <br />And remove that which is evil <br />From my soul... <br /> <br />But alas... <br />I fear... <br />That when the storm dies <br />And all is calm again <br />All that shall remain of me... <br />Is a pile of salt bleached bones! <br /> <br />Dee Daffodil (HW) 22 September,2008<br /><br />Dee Daffodil<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-stand-to-be-corrected/
