11.May.25

Corker’s sweven

Bottled

And tossed asea

Bobs and bows

Until a tide

Afar

Or near

Decides the swing

Of no waiting

May be where

Another yearned

For a sign

Or note

Before

They left

To walk the beach

Because hope

Can ever

Comortably

Sit and stare

Until

A heart in sync

With dreamer’s drink

Steps about

Beach’s route

Upon which

Souls’ felt wish

Will be found. ; )