Wednesday, May 24, 2006

My Space a poem by Sean G. Kilkelly

My Space,
What a gift this place is,
How we found one another,
Really is of no consequence,
'Tis even better there is no fee,
I come here when I'm feeling happy or sad,
This rock I've sat on when the tide is low,
A place to come when I want to cry,
And no one need know.
We've solved many a problem,
Such great advice you always give,
I don't even need to lie on a couch.
Could just be me,
But I love being surrounded by the sea,
Mr. Sun is here as is the silky sand,
I have walked up and down this land so often,
For exercise, for fun, for peace, even boredom,
Some go to church to gain this sense of calm,
Others sit and meditate,
Alas, to each his own,
However, I take a stroll,
Along this beach in Rye,
A breathtaking view across the Long Island Sound,
Fifteen, twenty minutes is all I need,
Near a sanctuary called the Edith Read,
When I depart my life no longer feels like it has come apart,
My space is oh so reliable,
To bring me to a sense of calm undeniable,
Day or night her beauty never fails to delight,
At night I look to my right,
I see two bridges;
The Throgs and 'Stone,
With necklace lights,
Shone so bright,
Straight ahead is the fictional East Egg,
I wonder if Gatsby is a dinner host on this night;
What is it about this beach that is so right,
Does it remind me of Footprints,
And my Savior's might,
When I'm here I know He is near,
A fiery sunset transforms into a magnificent moonlight,
'Tis a fool who sees this,
And denies the great Lord exists,
My Space, My Space,
Kinder than any face,
Good grief I detest having to leave this fixation,
But am grateful for the brief rest and relaxation.

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