Dumaguete boulevard earling morning

Many poems were written
By those who reached here
And made the walks
On early mornings

You can see the serene skies
Unmoved by the wind
You can see the boat sailing
Smoothly cutting the lines of the sea
You can hear the sound of the paddle
Slashing the sky blue sea
You can see the lush green moss
And seaweeds on the sea walls and stones
Along the boulevard

The street lights slowly die
Like the eyes of a woman closing
The morning starts to gain light
From the peeping sun

I am watching this unfolding
With so much joy
Sitting on this white bench
Alone as I watch her
Walking towards me

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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