Miss Nostalgia

upon the deck, the crew men lay

they who worship and learn to pray

whistles blown day by day

for them nor to wander nor to stray

but come forth to ocean’s tide

leaves she her little grace note

swaying back n’ forth she floats

singing deep from the throat

looking from the wooden boat

the sea of miss nostalgia

sea shells deep in the blue

small feathered wings that flew

gusts of wind, of morning dew

clocks that ticked just for you

come see the ocean’s tide

none forgotten secrets and lies

the ones they tried so hard to hide

shaped and sculpted, fragile lives

hearts of they that couldn’t fly

the sea of miss nostalgia

telling time from afar

peeking through doors ajar

hiding a troubled scar

misery rippling in my lumbar

come thee near ocean’s tide

anchors clank and thumps of boot

diverting paths with no route

thy melody declared by flute

she sighs with another salute

the sea of miss nostalgia

words that drive razors, so sour

helpless hates and loves of the hour

tight fights and children who cower

life they know not how to devour

come feel the ocean’s tide

wet late nights and shivers

no one here to be thy giver

white pale cheeks of sliver

an agony that yearns to deliver

the sea of miss nostalgia

she waits there now, so sad

cries above sound mad

no time for memories, just bad

she smiles, to what she’s had

come be part of the ocean’s tide

waves of water down below

dancing façades that do not flow

they who always come and go

perished thoughts of status quo

the sea of miss nostalgia

shadows that talk and foresee

she is nothing, not lady liberty

above they drink old dreadful tea

never a good era to be free

come lie in the ocean’s tide

they, she sees, stand so tall

speaking conniving words to all

she told them they would soon fall

in the depths of a nasty brawl

the sea of miss nostalgia