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Call of the Sea
The call of the sea
haunts me wherever.
Beckoning coaxing
haunting ever haunting.
Soft as the voice of a siren
wafting on the wind.
Whispering in the waves
luring tempting.
On the beach.
Wet fingers of the surf
reaching pulling.
Ever patient ever persistent.
The salt seasoned wind
seeks me out.
It with temptation
subtly saturates my senses.
Only when I return
to the call of the sea.
Only when I answer
will it be silenced.
poem
by
Kurt Hearth
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