As sun warms my shell and melts me a bit,
Like butter in pan before simmer boil,
Beneath the sand, where waves on ankles hit,
The seas unfurl and winds in jocund roil.
The salty zephyr weaves and ducks through hair,
And Gannets croon its songs like off-key bass,
With fall of tides like steps of giants bare,
And feel a thousand pins of tumbled sass.
The children batter broken shells from sea,
To hear it play its crashing, haunting tune,
At red of day, the waves renew their moxie,
Like leaping, hunting dogs in rising moon.
So, I observe the nature's glimmer lurch,
A firefly admiring stars in arch.
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 1:08 AM UTC
As sun warms my shell and melts me a bit,
Like butter in pan before simmer boil,
Beneath the sand, where waves on ankles hit,
The seas unfurl and winds in jocund roil.
The salty zephyr weaves and ducks through hair,
And Gannets croon its songs like off-key bass,
With fall of tides like steps of giants bare,
And feel a thousand pins of tumbled sass.
The children batter broken shells from sea,
To hear it play its crashing, haunting tune,
At red of day, the waves renew their moxie,
Like leaping, hunting dogs in rising moon.
So, I observe the nature's glimmer lurch,
A firefly admiring stars in arch.