The Shore and The Woman

There’s a shore where she stands just a woman and time - her perpetual penman with pestilent plans.

Unauthored moments play in the sand racing breathlessly onwards towards a future out of hand.

While gluttonous gulls fly with clocks snatching hours to lay a great spread of the maiden to feast.

Littering, empty seats line the shore - the woman invited, still hoping for more.

Crashing a melody of orchestrated waves goes the womb, a metronome ticking unheard for today.

(c) Original poetry by Christine Ren (https://medium.com/@Christine_Ren)