Waves

Waves

Another wave is climbing
so gently up the shore,
it whispers ever softly
like those that came before.

The tide is rising higher,
releasing painted shells
as I sit beside the fire,
enchanted by the swells.

The ocean sands are shifting
like pebbles in a stream,
the tiny granules gliding
beneath a cold moonbeam.

The sea will hide her treasure
as nature makes her stand,
all taken in the measure
as night falls oer' the land.

© Copyright 2008 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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