Leagues, leagues over the sea I sail

couched on a wallowing dolphin's tail.

The sky is on fire, the waves a-sheen,

I dabble my foot in the billows green.

In a sea-weed hat on the rocks I sit,

where tern and sea-mew glide and beat,

and where dark shadows the cormorants meet.

In caverns cool when the tide's a wash,

I sound my conch to the watery splash.

From out their grottoes at evenings beam,

The mermaids swim with locks agleam,

To where I watch on the yellow sands

They pluck sweet music with sea-cold hands.

They bring me coral and amber clear.

But when the stars in heaven appear,

their music ceases, they glide away.

They swim for their grottos across the bay.

Then listen only to my shrill tune,

the surfy tide, and the wondering moon.

~Walter de la Mare

Sea Fever

I must go down to the sea again,

to the lonely sea and the sky

And all I ask is a tallship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking

And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the sea again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 I must go down to the sea again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

~John Masefield

Of Earth And Sea And The Oceans Free

 If I am the land then the beach is the link with the ocean free

The land doesn’t move, constantly taking the breaks on it's knees

The earth lets its strong wooded trees become beached in the waves

Fish who venture too far ashore become enslaved to earth’s grave

At first sight this connection may be irreconcilable

A mere mermaid is just the minds fairy imaginable

So full of fantasy the religion becomes truly intransient

And then the possible becomes a god- no traces of the valiant

And so with my boldness past to the dead and wooden

I am left empty, wanting, like a guardian with no villain

Insincere until there is no fear, social fire starter

Machined aggression into motivation until smarter

Without attempt it's a mystery that beats hearts warmer

An onion with layer upon layer of sulfur and cellular

Passive waves of cycle and symmytery for messages

Conservative and safe nothing beyond simple passages

A protective skin protrudes just to use on the obtuse

A wall of armour helping to enusre I remain a recluse

Protecting my bleeding heart, left wanting in despair

“To love is to be lost”, but my heart only wants to care

The prose and the stifled concern,

The yearn and the jilted heart burn... for more

Desperation overcomes this earth and sea divide

With the beach a guarantor for my feelings raw

Gain rapport by looking for a resolution

Fantasize and refute for a probable conclusion

Life's survival for more of the reconcilable

Touching the sky, the pale sea now viable

Jump over the hedge forever into bosomed cleavage

No ability to stifle it's the beginning of a new privilege

The baptism in water is completed with the sun as intermediary

The immersion eclipses and witnesses the fleet of all misery

The femme has the door, and is truely made welcome

For labour in vain has sort a femme of good rapport seldom

So unveil the tulip heart dripping with creative spontaneity

Unleash the romantic and let all of infinite oblivion see

Unleash the inner trust that says what you must

Ask for friendship just if that should prevent lust

And the tulip will envelope only if you keep hope

And keep seeking for new ways to help thy cope

Endlessly lapping waves keep territory bland

For no femmes truly share life’s reprimand

Lower thy sword and step out from the shadows

Follow thy lines front and fight beyond these meadows

Hedging hostility, leaping to elope

Grasp the cup and partake in hope

Sincere in a brave new world

Lest tears with shameful pearls

Beats living a life of puritanical antiquity

Adapt to transition, change more quickly

There will always be more frontiers, beaches

part of growth is finding orchards with peaches

But to the girl of many dreams may i yet still yield

Coming home cold and tired from a hard day a field

And when she lays in the warm bath tired, pure adoration I will have

Massaging her feet whilst she tells the days battles, yes that’s right to me… trav

Travis Mannetje

Adriatic Sea Wash- The Real feelings of The Sea

adriatic sea wash versus pacific terrific wave splash aeons sea in flux

perpetuum mobili swings to shore with the washing powder flume and disarray

order milkshake wave loire seine float farthest Out to spread dreamy pools

blue very depth. imagine the deepest then deep. do oceans dream? of getting a bath or drying out scorched parchment? Ocean forever liquid flowing natural force with quiff wave. Yet not ever needing gel. Sea mind is intellect harbours precious jewels and cute fish. Sea does not mind fish travelling in him. Adds to wave. Sea has a respect for shore though shore is overcome by his water on shores aridity. Soft dreamy warm sand has his own kind of fluidity and drape like a huge gold dress.

When sea is stormy sand takes the brunt of his displaced attitude and lets the wild waves crash over his calm grains. Wild sand is when wild wind agitates and whips up easygoing laidback sand. Never says anything when he is dug by bucket carrying kids raking and patting. If sea

Dug up I know it would be peturbed disturbed crashing a force wave

in a bucket carriers face.

calm gentle pools of rippling with spools of water in little rings and sweet tranquillity

storm mental pools of rippling squall water fierce splash angst salty agitation.

jasmine maddock