| 
 About This Author 
My name is Joy, and I love to write. 
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 ![Joy Sweeps  [#1514072]
Kiya's gift. I love it!](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)  
 
 | 
	 Green Peas at Stake  #580093 added April 18, 2008 at 7:15pm Restrictions: None	 
	Sunset Beach (Dew Drop 18) 
	Sunset Beach 
 
The surf comes in like a train 
with soft choo choo sounds, 
swelling first, far over the ocean, 
where sunset begins. 
The sun burns its spinning wheel, 
to sweep later the ashes  
into gliding clouds as its light 
pulls up anchor,  
and sea foam fizzles down  
to dampness on sand. 
Then comes my refusal  
to walk barefoot on 
this beach, for  
particles of far-away sands 
are already glued  
under my toes. | 
 
 
© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.  
 |