Mark Scrivener

Poetry Poems Original Verse

Monday, January 18, 2016

AT THE INLET

AT THE INLET

Over the whole
inlet's wide flow,
where the long river
rolls to the ocean,
all of the small
waves' rippling motion
sparkles with low
sun's gold-white glow.

Sails of some small
boats there are billowing.
Filling, they're following
breezes' soft blowing.

Dark-silhouetted
dolphins are flowing
through water's dazzling,
shimmering glowing.

All this my sight
follows until
all seems dissolved in
boundless and bright
oceans of glowing,
billowing, flowing,

gold-yellow light.

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Thursday, January 14, 2016

NEW MORNING

NEW MORNING

In dawn I stand, in light's new power,
refreshed by rising day.
Day-colour seems a wonder now;
the dark of night is swept away.

Yet through the darkness and the deep,
strange kingdom of the dream, dear sleep
revitalised my limbs;
and billowed away
worn yesterday.

And so I stand, in new and mind-bright hour,
as this new morning shines,
renewed-

as new as these new lines
I've written now,

as new as time's new way
I've never seen;
as new as this new day...

that's never been.


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Wednesday, January 06, 2016

TIME AND MOTION

TIME AND MOTION

Star-like, bright coruscations of hot sun
now pattern over rhythmic restlessness
of indigo ocean, vast to the east, contrasting
with foot-formed hillocks of
the sand's near immobility.

Now I descry a distant
peak of white sail,
close to the sea's far rim,
so frail, ephemeral,
and almost camouflaged
by washes of translucent clouds'
brief veils on sky's
wide aeons of blue.

Near-ageless sun is sovereign,
a glare to even glancing sight,
that sets the sands to fire for feet.

Sea-bathers strive to mingle with
the changing of enduring elements:
the water and heat.

I glimpse the flurry as
a wave metamorphoses to foam;
I trace
the angled shapes
of headland cliff, bright in the light,
that weather there so slowly-

so slowly that their change
seems nothing but
a stillness to my passing sight.