That great shore

That great and rugged distant shore

on which we lay our senses,

hits our eyes with supreme delight

against the silhouette of the inked night.


The waves slap angrily at the solid rock

and the sea’s spit flies in our eyes

as you cry with reverence at the display

that is generously gifted your way.


We sleep under the pin-dotted sky

and see the moon drift and the clouds fly,

as the water screams into the night

but we lay frozen with this heavenly sight.