The House by the Sea

Winter leaves a land

of still anticipation,

bathed in orange light.


Biscuits, coffee, nestled in

his ship – a cutter perched on rusty

barrels, small before the sun.


A nearby nest of lanes – the garden

done, she heads to yellow flames, as coldness comes,

and cuts, and the colours merge to grey.


And as they sink within the

night, I think of them, the single house,

the trees and whispering sea.


When I return, the

smiles will be warm, and I will

find a part of me.

5 thoughts on “The House by the Sea

  1. I enjoyed this poem and loved the last line about returning. Thank you for the follow!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful! It feels like a memory.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Congratulations Nick! Beautiful words x

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “bathed in orange light.” I’ve been there with the sun! Beautiful, one commenter wrote it reads like a memory, It does ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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