by Lawrence J. J. Leonard
It’s found in an ocean of pulsating tides
among salty shore walkers who quietly rise.
When day is not cloudy while the wind is not still,
as a moaning of gulls sails over the hills.
The sun will be melting frosty air to the ground.
Should you feel the world turning around and around,
your mouth will slow as this view gives you chills.
A treasure from which you can’t get your fill,
caressed with the heart, not glimpsed with the eyes.
To lovers it hastens, from haters it hides.
Copyright © 1960-2015 Lawrence J. J. Leonard All rights reserved.