World of Itís Own
Ocean spray, a salty mist,
the sea, whitecaps prance,
natures wet passionate kiss,
her exotic essence in dance.
Waves rolling one by one,
crystal clear and ever blue,
in motion never to be done,
moving sand creating anew.
To the horizon all you see,
water appears ever so vast,
insufficiently, you and me,
forces of nature made to last.
The sky meets the ocean clear,
survivalís never ending flow,
roaring sounds we often hear,
by the sea, so little we know.
Fish, to seals, to gigantic whales,
creatures of the sea they share,
world of itís own, so many tales,
it keeps knocking on our door.
Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2009, All Audiences
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