My Friend in his Chair

I see an ocean in my own life,
Let walking produce the wife
For the sight that lived in me,
The ocean lifts its power to be.
The message can not arrive,
Instead, a wooden chair is alive
With my friend, with my dear foe,
The magnificent and low.
He may never see an ocean or sea
But the life is alive with a chair and tea.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!