adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The Other Woman, a poem

The Other Woman

The ocean is the other woman in my life.
She calls me from your side, yes, whispers her way through
my dreams upon a breeze, salt-scented, from the south.
And though dreams they may be I must believe them true.

Let me leave behind this fog of Northern ports.
Let me seek the sun once more and do not be
jealous of my love, for she will cast me back
upon your shores, some day, the fickle, faithless sea.

Yes, a faithless lover the ocean ever is
and man was never meant to seek her as a wife.
He’ll yearn and find no peace, sailing ever on;
yet she remains the other woman in my life.

Stephen Brooke ©2013


an exercise in hexameter and certainly open to revision and/or extension

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