Sol waves a forlorn goodbye
to last kiss of sunlit aquatic dreams,
The spellbound majesty of the full moon
draws the tides to its blonde pulchritude
heaving bosom of the ebb and flow
creeps in white billows of foam
up the walkways where no footsteps
tread until the morrow dawns again
in harmony with the flow of life
washing clean the travesties of man.
Sleight of hand of tidal motion chanting
we are the magic, wiping grains of sand
from your weary eyes of pain and suffering -
a fresh wash of tears from the swelling seas.