Sanguine 

By Andrew Ballard

Sanguine 

is where I find myself

sitting in my red armchair

transported to my ideal place

seashore views

rolling sandhills

crystal clear sea 

with cappuccino froth 

swirling in the waves

driftwood gnarled 

with stories caught in kelp

seagulls squawking

crabs crawling

with sun setting 

penguins 

are coming home from the sea

soon the incoming tide 

will lap at the foot of my red chair

I couldn’t care

sanguine 

is where I find myself.

beach-1846688_1280

SHARE THIS CONTENT:

TAGS FOR THIS CONTENT:

RECENT BLOG ENTRIES:

More Writing Submissions

Ode to the voices (Who some call God but I call Calliope) 

By Lisa Solomon

Hope

By Val Smith

What Happens If I Stop

By Jo Withers

The Unseen Chaos in My Mind

By Mikayla Bohmer