The End of Summer

My Oceans

Wet sand under our feet, as we walk a few more minutes along our beach

wind caressing our faces, and for some reason My Love

the seagulls object to our hand holding,

our salty kisses

as we surround ourselves

in the waves.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Note: We haven’t been to the beach yet this year. We are still hoping to.


On Our Deserted Beach


On our deserted beach My Love, we can walk unhindered

joining hands, infusing each other

with peace, the waves speaking to our hearts,

as we close our eyes

seagulls swirl above

then quietly descend,


about our prayers.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies