The Old Soul

She was an old soul

Who loved the sea

And at fifteen

It was beyond me

How she could stay that quiet.

 

When she smiled

It looked like

She was holding in a joke

And maybe she was.

 

Her eyes were grey

In a beautiful way

Like when clouds turn a lavender-steel.

And she'd blink at me, inquisitivley

Though, she never asked any questions.

 

She could walk along the shore

For hours on end

And one of the few things

I remember she said was :

"I love how it's always the same sea

But really,

It isn't"

Author's Note

Enjoy and let me know if there's anyway to improve :)

Reviews

[Shin ( formerly known a..]

A huge understanding of one's self that translates into a panoramic perception of the life in the territories lived. It goes deeper into a profound nature of oneself in the society and environment. A potency waiting to unfold itself into a realm of new possibilities. Perhaps to rise one day to shake the hand of another across the continents. What do they feed the kids these days? Incredible!

[WILDERNESS]

The last line is deep as the sea. so surreal , a most beautiful poem.........

[K-mo]

this is good, the decriptions are very clear:)

[WILDERNESS]

V nice,
Towards the end of our lives we become wise and peaceful. The old lady and the deep sea, perfect harmony.
Good job

[waytendblak]

I like the way you express. this is nice! :D

[recantichize]

you have some beautiful descriptions here. i love the flow and idea of clouds a lavender steel. really nice. well done.