The Dock

Whenever I need a little inspiration, motivation or self-reflection, I write a poem. Here's one I penned in between yesterday's final exam study sessions.
I can't write without someone or something in mind. "The Dock" is a poem about entering recklessly into love. One of the greatest romantic poets of the 19th century was Sara Teasdale. Teasdale was born August 8th, so it's only appropriate to share my attempt at modeling Teasdale's style.

The Dock
He is a song, a placid sea
Never one to rattle waves at me
I love his voice upon my lips
My hips his careful fingertips
The quayside grins he freely grants
Stir my heart to gingerly dance
He leads me on a bouncy path
Consequences are an aftermath
I need his touch, his tinsel eyes
An inheritance of endless sighs
The only way to describe him true
Would be to climb a cloud, and follow through
He is the rush of August night across a crescent moon
Throttling me with pleasantries, prompting me to swoon
Best kept inside summer’s playful face
Stand the all-consuming shadows of his trace
I think he’s enough to catch my breath
From this dock to the ocean’s breadth

Parting Points: Happy Birthday to Drew Lachey---who's music will always be my sunshine after the rain.

Song of the day- NOFX's "August 8th"