Long shore drift en echelon Long minutes march by metronome Long is the spellbound beachcomber For an island all his own.
Long is the dream of an inland man Lost to his seaside girl. Diver down where the standard waves Swimming dizzy for a polished pearl.
Light from her eyes plays on sea glass chips Tumbled in the curling waves That crest and break on a beach that waits for a wish he once had made.
The surf is heard like a lingering kiss breathing ripples on the smoothening sand And just as the whisper and simmering fades, Another promise swells, tumbles, and lands.
The ocean is love running breathless, In a race between the moon and the sun, Causing tides to surge across the poignant curve Of an incandescent blue horizon.
A tranquil star contracts and bursts In pulsing neon spires. Thereβs forever a star expiring While life glows from embers in a dying fire.
If this writer could paint, it would be a portrait of the empty space beside him. Awaiting the image of a seagoing girl, He turns his canvas into a thirsting ocean.