Thin Air

Thin Air
©2008 Wayne Cook

I could see the sky
In her doe-like eyes
The earth silent at her feet
Her shoulders rose proud
Like the tops of clouds
The sun worshipped her when in sleep

Her body was lithe
A sculpture alive
With flesh and bone and blood
Gentle of face
I could sense her grace
Desire and my tears mixed flood

I played my guitar
As my mind strayed afar
An invitaion played in her smile
The image would stay
Then it would fade
My arms reached for her all the while

My soul sang a song
My heart panting, longed
For her fragrance and skin drove me mad
Her breath sighed anew
Finally I knew
The dream through, desperate, I grabbed

Thin air……

He Claims the Damned Souls

©2007 Wayne Cook

Up in the curl of the silver surf,
You can see him riding high
Proud as a peacock arching its neck,
An emerald against the sky
His eyes gleaming their triumph,
Though feet are tight to the board
His muscles tense in concentration
As he beats the old man once more

Old man of the sea you claim the damned souls
By ones and twos and tens
You lie with wet lips in silence until
The winds wail and moan again
Oh, the way of the sea, and the life on the shore
Are seldom ever at peace
The young take their chance
At the watery dance
And the old man, he waits patiently

Down through the tube, the surfer skates on
Laughing his joy neath the roar
The hungry wave charges as if to say
Have your fun, boy, but this is war
It’s the battle of wit and timing and skin
As muscle and bone split the tide
I’d sooner be buried at sea than live
With the lubbers at office and grind

But once in a fortnight, with quiet and malice
The ocean will silently claim
A soul, a body, and fingers and mind
The boy who dares to disdain
The power, the old man, who swims on below
He grins as the surf soaks the shore
No man can live that close to the edge
And not bare his soul to the Lord