an expectant sea

Hello and welcome, my digital friends!

For those of you who write, how often does your narrative begin in the middle of the story, then later form a beginning and end around it?

It’s strange. Isn’t it?

This poem began exactly that way. I was having fun with sounds in some standalone phrases: rhyming wordplay, alliteration, euphony, etc.

“…brawny acts of briny buoyancy…” being an example ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿป

As the poem came to life, it developed its own acute awareness of place/setting. For it to work best, it necessarily had to be set on the sea at sunset.

That then allowed for this type of soliloquy to evolve. And the challenging emotional center of the piece.

I thought for some of you avid readers who do not write a lot, it might be an interesting insight into (at least) this writer’s journey and how some creative works come to life.

Truly hope you enjoy this poem. Try reading it aloud to get a taste (pun intended) for some of the mouthfeel and wordplay mentioned earlier.

And as always, please let me know your thoughts, feelings, and reactions to the poem in the โ€˜Leave a Replyโ€™ comment section at the bottom of this page.

-PS Conway โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ

โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ โ˜˜๏ธ

an expectant sea

save a soft thought for me, my love,

the sunset beckons

with the warmth of tangerine ice cream

melting slowly on a pale-plated sea ย 

for i must navigate alone

the waves taunt me with brawny feats

of briny buoyancy

each whitecap carries stories

in a language so lyrical, so feral

i must walk their wake to recall its ancient tongue ย 

indeed, if i but abandon love

forsake this mortal coil which binds me

constrains me from my potential

surrender to the sirensโ€™ keening

that cries into, pries apart, my soul

more! more! more! ย 

it is a journey for the lonely

i would never dare ask you to take

let me be the villain, the oath-breaker

and deliver my sins unto an expectant sea


  1. Death is “a journey for the lonely” as you say. I love the opening line so much. I hope that when my ashes are spread into the sea, my friends “save a soft thought for me” too. The sea is my place if solace, but here, it invites us to cross over. Beautiful poem Pat.

    1. That is my wish as well, Naomi! Whether for solace or as a path between lives, I always love the imagery the sea evokes! Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks! ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿท๐ŸŒนโœจ

  2. I love every word of this poem โ€ฆ The sea with its temperamental nature, the calm, the rage, she seduces the unwary, calms the mind and touches the soul.
    My ashes will be cast to the wind off the coast of Dorset UK at sunset.
    My favourite line โ€ฆ a sunset with the warmth of tangerine ice cream.

    1. Sandie! I am so thrilled you loved the poem. Ashes cast to the sea is such a lovely notion to meโ€ฆ rejoining us to whence we first emerged. Thanks (as always) for sharing your wonderful comments. ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿท๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ’•โœจ

  3. I plan to be floated out to sea in a biodegradable flower, eventually to come to rest on the ocean floor here on the West Coast of Canada, to sleep forever in her embrace. Thanks for another lovely poem.

    1. Reva, I absolutely adore that plan!!! A rather artistic return to the sea, to be sure. Thanks so much for your kind words. ๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ™๐Ÿป๐Ÿทโœจ

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