Gazing out your cerulean diamonds past the rippled shore toward the sunrise bursting on the horizon and you swear you’ve never felt this before.
A wave-caressed *******, where sea-winds lift the wailing gulls, and you’re dancing to the calypso flooded with ardor and answering the call for voyage on the water.
Another day and the helm is turning. In the midnight trance, your sails are drawn. The crew say these clouds are blurring your painted vessel of this summer's dawn.
The mast is towering in the salty air and the sun is showering your seaward stare.