On one summer day,
she relaxed by the waves.
In this peace she'd stay
for the sun she craves.

The salty, misty air
dwindled drops from the sea.
It gave a spume to her hair,
but on her skin it would flee.

She meditated on the surges
with her pale feet in the sand.
Each wave comes and emerges
onto the dense and dry land.

The wind just a blowing,
and the sky was ever so blue.
The waves were just a going,
and this is what she would do.