A purple haze engulfed my ache,
A mistress so in-tune,
My lady bore my weight and wake,
Guided by fluorescent moon.
A shift and stir, from side to side,
And rolling underneath,
Her sweet embrace is gentle tide
Her whispers, just beneath.
Washed upon the solid ground,
I feel a calming breeze,
Despite the earth to which I’m bound,
She puts my mind to ease.
Thrown from ship, I’ve seen the sea,
And she has seen no less of me.
I really like the imagery in all of your poetry. This one flows very well and casts a clear image.
Poetry is the murder of perfectly good words.