Nothing causes me more delight
than the sea's pleasurable sigh
as she stretches out and pulls tight,
moistening that which once was dry.
She makes rocks grind and multiply,
pouncing on their hard solid might.
Guided by the moon way up high
she is a creature of the night.
She is such a wonderous sight
curving unabashed and unshy,
spraying rocks with refreshing white,
louder in her deafening cry.
The ocean bed is hers to lie
where she's both strong and only slight
but one day her tides will die
in an overdrawn, exhausted plight.
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