Best Poem of S.. ...

My River
Wandering woods thru dale and down
A moments pause to hear the sound
Of gentle wind through dappled leaves
Summers breathe 'neath towering trees
The sounds of water, river braided
Down from hillside, fury faded
And so for me which is my brother
The wind, the woods, the water, other
Today I say the . . .
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Anchors Aweigh
What a thing to love what may never be touched
for she is to me as the Southern Cross to the sailor
Known to the eyes and real to the soul
A beacon in darkness and guide for my heart
As the sailor prays the darkened clouds will clear
their misty veil drawn from the midnight sky
So do I, that she will appear one . . .
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