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.