ORNA ROSS

Historical Fiction

Poetry

Go Creative!

Ocean Pulse

Rising, curling, foam unfurling, waves of cold Salema sea,

Next one coming, meet it running, plunge into the safe beneath.   

Behind crashing, hard sand-smashing that could knock me to my knees,

Here you hold me – Look! I’m floating! – blood-beat drumming in my ears.


Waves keep surging, endless burgeon sent up from the darkness deep,

I stay playing, breath delaying, surfacing your mystery

that's always saying all to me.