Why would I rock with the foams
surging wet & airy lacking form & substance
why should I rock with foams
when all it does is kiss the sands & mingle with the dirt
why even contemplate the foams
frothy stained white suds  full of flotsam and rotten debris
why would I the rock of ages
be moved by the swells of the listless restless recessive mucky foams
I can see it lacks substance
and as it sprints & splinters in sodding grumbling disquiet
along captors boundaries & shoreline hideaways
I hear its ceaseless sad forlorn whispering songs & laments
layered in liquid fantasies as it trails for reach & a place to belong
puffed up foams of breezy no consequence
fated growth in bubbles only to ebb & return, return and ebb
Why would I rock with the foams
they are not solid