Here is the sea
full of waves and salt
with her flickering brow
and wavering shore.

A million poems are
already wrote
but she's beautiful enough
for one more.

Here is her breath
tailored but wild
to stir up the clouds
but hold down the beach.

Here are her shoulders
yellow with sunshine
as she wanders her way
to the East.

Here is her cloak
as soft as fog
she wraps it around her
on chilly days
of when she gets bored of the sun.

Her voice is a friendly whisper
she speaks of her friends
her storms and calm days
her happiness, her guilt, her wealth.

And at night when the stars
are a labyrinth of pin-pricks
she gathers their light for herself.

And here is her sky
a friendly rival
his waves are accordion clouds
that sit on the horizon.

And her clouds are sails
that follow the wind
and chase after birds
and surprise them.

And here is her shore again
glowing under sun-set
foam nets she casts ashore,
and empty, she pulls them back.

A child runs past
She plays tag with a wave
A cockle shell in each hand.

And then she's gone
And all that's left
Are small-toed prints in the sand.

The sea tosses her net
with a deep hiss and a groan
and it catches the foot-prints
and drags them down.

And the sand is new again-smooth as before
and the sea keeps whispering
secrets to her shore.