"Beryl Lagoon"


Standing on the edge of a vast Beryl Lagoon,
Feet anchored in the blistering sand.
Pulling on a rope through Sun and Moon;
Connected edges across the blue expand.

Hands rugged with a ceaseless grip,
Eyes waiting for that blessed ferry,
Speculating at what made the trip,
Across the edges that this rope marries.
But if those planks just slightly tip,
Then the water will breach and bury;
Heart still when the wind whips,
Beating on when the calmness carries.
Hand over hand,
Feet holding steady.
A tireless errand;
Restless but ready.

Hardly a wince until the first glimpse.
Then no more strain as the last pull remains.

Laying on the banks of a vast Beryl Lagoon,
Body resting on the cool moistened land,
Basking under the Stars and Moon;
Recovering from the distance spanned.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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