What a life it would be,
To be just me and the sea.
Flailing afloat, drifting about,
With the most highest tides, I would joust.
In the misty air full of life,
Where lay a calm everywhere,
With the drenching rains,
With the calmest ebb,
And the highest tide.
Rejoicing in the storms of morn,
Regaling in the calm of night,
And they might change just the same,
Put down by spirit might.
Twisting and turning, up and down,
It will take you where you need to go.
And if you find yourself in the sea,
It may be the best resting place you can be.
For what more gallant than resting in
Even if defeated, valiant, clashing its thunder and din.
To lay with peace in that watery grave,
An aftermath only for the bravest of brave.
Literary Expeditions 