Random Acts of Poetry

Here, where it is clear

Out there, where
The salty wind comes from,
The ocean is blue.
It churns and crests;
A powerful swirling deep.

Here, on the shore
I dig my toes into the sand
Only to have them uncovered,
By the rippling return
That tumbles haphazardly over the pebbles at the water's edge.

I cannot partake of the ocean's
Potent rolling, I would be overcome.
But here, where it is playful and clear,
I can rest in it's gentle tickling,
And catch it in a bucket


16 lines
Daily Poetry July 20, 2020
Prompt: Tell me about something you love to do to relax.