Figures dancing on the half waves Figures dancing on the half waves Sooth the dreaming swans The water is full of quiet After its journey from the Wicklow hills Her mind boiling Her feet on a treadmill Taking her away Far away She is drawn to the lock Full of a constant thunder An eternity of darkness That is oblivion Share this: poemPrintMoreTwitterFacebookLinkedInRedditTumblrPinterestPocketTelegramWhatsAppSkypeEmailLike this:Like Loading... By timmyconway By profession an Accountant By ambition a Politician By nature a Poetry View all of timmyconway's posts.