I have a secret by the seashore,
sitting secluded shrouded I search.
Slowly I seduce the seed out of the sediment,
seeking growth in a sedulous way,
self indulgent and selective about semantics.
A serpentine serenade plays in the shadow,
the sound shimmers in my minds eye.
I dance a soft shoe in the sand around the seed
sweet and simplistic I smile, a silhouette of silence.
A sightseer or soothsayer maybe a singer or
simply a shadow sizzling in the sand.
So the skeptic sings while I listen, skittish
of the sentimentality, not one to skulk.
I soak in the dreams as they singe my subconscious,
surreptitious serendipity stuns me again and again.
Surprised by the surveillance I just surrender
the shadows, watching the seed as it grows.
Thinking with a sigh secondly, secondly
the seconds tick by, still, I am.