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Each movement showers of light rays
spread out from my limbs,
as if the sea were all a sparkling pond of magical beings,
their tiny presences made visible by disturbance;
this ethereal glow,
sends the mind to fantasies of other worlds,
where stars are born,
or in the luminous deep sea plankton as it stirs.

Neptune reigns,
his mythical ghosts still dance in mists of time,
their stories spread around the world,
mysterious patterns in our minds,
rocking our studies of the ocean in the book of salt,
spelling tales that made the sailor quake,
inspiring poets to write of things unseen,
sensed in the keen wind, blown off the waves
their great whale-like wandering about the globe,
in darkened skies we peer and probe.

Margaret Ann Waddicor 6th December 2013.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 


Seem to remember being at sea and at night the waters take on a beautiful green glow, almost ghost like, something to do with the plankton if I rem right.
Good write of many twists of the Ocean and its mysteries.
Just the first two lines of the write where you say:-
Each movement showers
of light rays spread out from my limbs,
Not sure of its flow:-
Each movement showers
light rays spreading out from my limbs,
Each movement, showers (With the comma)
of light rays spread out from my limbs,
Still this could be me being picky again but loved the write,
Yours as always Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Ian you were right the reading of it didn't work,
I hope it did when I rearranged the words a bit?
What one hears in one's mind and what comes
out on the page can differ, and change the
meanings and logic, that is why we have
to edit poems often isn't it?

Thank you ian love to you from Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Here to say that I like the flow of this

Hi Ann, lovely poem, I like its flow now that you've changed it a little. I also enjoy the sea, have been on ships several times, both southwards to the Islas Malvinas (Faulklands, if you're a Brit), as well as north in the Pacific. That's why I enjoy your poem.
I'm late now, so will return for a better read. All the best, Gracy

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

where now are ye

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