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Love once swelled in a rising sea,
Only to erode with an ocean breeze.
Feelings would drift as windswept sand,
Till a shield was built to stand.
Where once water breached my porous heart,
Rocks have sealed the weakest parts.
Slippery steps on “thrown out”* rubble,
Could bring me closer to “toil and trouble.”
Yet, the sea once left to gorge and scour,
Has been becalmed by stony bowers.
And as I watch from projections,
My mind is stilled with reflections.

Sent in by Wendy Shreve

*Jetty comes from the French word jetée or “thrown out.”
And an acknowledgement to William Shakespeare for “. . . toil and trouble.”

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